


We All Have A Hunger

by Khione_North



Series: Modern AU [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, And Bramble, And Wist, Angst and Fluff, Anxiety, Baby's First Long Fic, Bathing/Washing, Blow Jobs, Celebrations, Coffee As A Form Of Currency, Counter Sex, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cuties Finally Doing the Do, Depression, Dildos, Dirty Talk, Drama, Eating Disorders, Emotional Porn, F/M, Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Fingerfucking, Fluff and Angst, Frosting, History Nerds Falling In Love, History Nerds Who Can Dance, Hoodies, Hurt/Comfort, I Also Blame Lumi, I laughed, I made ungodly banshee noises, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Inspired by Music, Mating Bites, Modern AU, Mutual Masturbation, No betas we die like Ascians, Past Self-Destructive Tendencies, Pls send chocolate, Poly Pile, Porn with Feelings, Romance, Self Defense, Sex, Sex Toys, Stalking, Suicide Attempt, Thank you Bex, University Setting, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism, Wall Sex, Zenos does not understand basic societal etiquette, Zenos is fucking creepy, ear wiggles, fashion - Freeform, i cried, please pay attention to warnings, problematic exes, sensual thigh massage, tags will be added as I go, will write for coffee
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:15:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 59,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26166235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khione_North/pseuds/Khione_North
Summary: Khione North just wants to get her damn PhD and forget about her shitty past.  She didn't come to Norvrandt City expecting to fall in love.  Then she met G'raha Tia.G'raha Tia always felt like he was missing something.  Then he met Khione.   This is the story of how these two lonely souls found each other and learned to battle their inner demons together.Rated E for future chapters.CW for mentions/discussions of eating disorders and various other shenanigans.  You've been warned.
Relationships: Aymeric de Borel/Original Character(s), Estinien Wyrmblood/Original Character(s), G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Warrior of Light, Hien Rijin/Warrior of Light
Series: Modern AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2024690
Comments: 131
Kudos: 82





	1. On the Floor

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome! This is my first long form fic, but I'm super excited about it, and you should be too!
> 
> However, please do mind the content warning. This fic will deal with mature topics like eating disorders, sexual assault, creepy stalking behaviour, and suicide attempts. If you are triggered by any of these topics, please use discretion. I won't be hurt if you decide not to read it for the sake of your own wellbeing.
> 
> If you do decide to read it, and you decide you enjoy it, leave a (polite, constructive, not asshole-ish) comment! Let me know what you enjoyed! Let me know what you think I need to work on (but again, be polite please)!
> 
> Also, please note that I have a habit of ninja editing, and important details might change (mainly in terms of timelines).
> 
> Lastly, if you're interested in the super awesome community of writers, readers, and artists who helped inspire this fic, then this Discord server is for you! https://discord.gg/K9M4ff
> 
> Thank you again for giving WAHAH a chance! Enjoy!
> 
> -Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CW: Spiked drinks, Asahi being creepy.

**_“At seventeen I started to starve myself; I thought that love was just a kind of emptiness…”_ **

* * *

_ “Dance the night away, live your life and stay young on the floor~” _

__

If anyone had asked her where the pulsing of the music ended and her own heartbeat began, Khione wouldn’t have been able to tell you. She would tell you about the feeling of gentle hands on her hips, the solid warmth of the stranger behind her as they danced beneath strobing lights, surrounded by hundreds of other strangers lost in the energy of youth and hedonism. She would tell you how she didn’t care about all those other strangers after  _ her _ stranger spun her around between songs and captured her with his sinful lips, pulling her breathlessly into the shadow of his hood; how she tried to pull his hood down, earning a chuckle against her mouth while the stranger took her hands in his, guiding them away from his face to keep his identity hidden; how it endeared this stranger to her and she desperately wished she knew his name.

Memories from the night before flitted through Khione’s mind, some clear, some not so clear as she mentally steeled herself for giving her friends a full report of her adventures and misadventures at The Crystarium, Norvrandt City’s premier nightclub. Wicked White, her head was pounding, and if she ever found out who the fuck had drugged her drink….

Groaning, Khione dragged herself out of bed and trudged into the kitchen she shared with Sollielle, Z’ala, and Zaerise, along with their respective boyfriends. Much to her chagrin, her roommates were already gathered around the table beneath a large window that let in far too much light for her liking.

“Well, well, well,” S’zala purred, her tail swishing lazily as she smirked up at Khione, “look who finally decided to return to the land of the waking.”

“Oh, come now, Zala, the poor thing  _ was _ drugged for Twelve’s sake. We should all be grateful that nothing bad happened to her,” Sollielle chided, fixing the miqo'te with a look of consternation, setting her teacup down gently on its saucer. The elezen shot Khione a sympathetic smile, gesturing to the vacant chair next to her. “Why don’t you come sit, Kiki? Tell us what happe—”

“Just…give me a moment,” Khione mumbled, pouring herself a very large cup of coffee before plunking down in the indicated seat. Blessedly, her back was to the window and that accursed sunlight. She glanced at the clock. Hungover and recovering from being drugged, yet she’d still managed to wake up before 8:00 AM. Zaerise looked up from her laptop briefly, quirked an eyebrow at her friend, then went back to whatever she was doing. Gods bless her for being unintrusive. 

Khione chugged half of her coffee in one go and screwed her eyes shut to will the last of the haziness from her mind. All three roommates were watching her expectantly when she opened them again.

“Och, very well,” she sighed, sitting up. Sollielle, ever the Mom Friend, refilled Khi’s coffee and motioned for her to begin.

**The Previous Evening, 8:30 PM**

“Come on, Khione, we still have two full days before classes start, and I’ve heard that The Crystarium is  **the** place to go, plus Esti said he'd pay for everyone's drinks” S’zala begged, fixing Khione with her signature pleading pout. It was the fifth time that day that S’zala had asked Khione to join her and the other two for one last girls’ night out before the four of them began their PhD programmes, and Khione could feel her resolve slipping, even as her anxieties rose.

“Zala, I have a lot of work to do to get ready for—”

“Khi, you and I both know that the minute the three of us leave to go meet up with the guys, you’re just going to give yourself a panic attack and a depressive episode by scrolling through FaceSpace until you finally pass out from exhaustion,  **or** you’re going to end up inviting Zenos over for a booty call, and we all know that  **that** never ends well.” For once, the miqo'te sounded serious, concerned, so unlike her usual chirpy demeanour. Khione knew she was right, and shame heated her cheeks.

“Look, Khi, I know the past few years have been really rough.” S’zala placed a gentle hand on Khione’s arm, giving her an encouraging smile. “I think it might be good for you to get back out there and have some fun again, remind yourself what it’s like to just let go of all the hurts and insecurities, even for a few hours. We’re in a new city with new people who don’t know your past, and it might be exactly what you need to…”

Khione sighed, running a hand through her hair. “To get over my shithead ex who cheated on me while I was in rehab for a relapse of an eating disorder plus dangerous partying habits that nearly killed me, caused by my perfectionist parents and their damned expectations along with my own anxiety and depression and the burden of trying to fix a dying relationship? Or the shittastic choices I made during the resulting mental breakdowns?”

S’zala’s ears folded back, and her expression was conflicted. Khione cursed herself for snapping at the miqo'te like that. “I’m sorry, Zal. You’re probably right…. Ask me again in five minutes.”

Khione’s stern expression slowly curled into a little smirk as she said the last bit, the barest hint of a spark of her old self glimmering through the ice queen façade. S’zala gasped in delight, clapping and hopping from foot to foot.

“Oh! I’ll go choose an outfit for you while you make up your mind!”

Her tail had disappeared around the corner and into Khione’s room before Khione even had a chance to open her mouth.

A bell later, Khione was handing her driver’s license to the bouncer outside The Crystarium, dressed far more revealingly than she’d been in two winters. Somehow, she’d been wrangled into one of S’zala’s leather miniskirts — a midnight blue piece that faux-laced up the front and actually zipped in the back — and a sparkly, lacy silver bralette, courtesy of Zaerise’s closet. Sollielle had contributed to the cause by donating a pair of strappy silver block heels that added a good five ilms to Khione’s short stature. All three roommates had done her makeup, exaggerating her already-large silver eyes with stark black eyeliner and dramatic smokey blue eyeshadow, the look finished off with S’zala’s trusty “Kiss-Proof” cherry red lipstick; and Sollielle with her blessed tallness had straightened Khione’s wavy hair until it was a sleek waterfall down her very exposed back. As much as she hated to admit it, Khione felt as good as she knew she looked, and S’zala had decidedly won their earlier argument. Perhaps this would be good.

Or perhaps she’d made such a decision too soon, she mused to herself as she sat alone at a table in the corner of the lively club. It certainly lived up to the hype: Three spacious floors beneath a blue crystalline dome with the main dance floor in the very centre, tables and chairs tucked away along the edges and in secret alcoves that gave it a sort of speakeasy vibe. Her friends had stuck with her for all of ten minutes before being pulled away by their boyfriends, leaving Khione very much alone at the table, delicately sipping her first — and only — glass of wine.

She used the time to simply observe, noting the diversity of races and ages, the various groups gathered around the main dance floor.

That’s where she saw  _ him _ . A particularly talented group of dancers had caught her eye, their movements fluid and trained, as though they could feel the music in their very bones.

In the centre of their circle, a miqo'te male with the upper half of his face shadowed by a hood stole the show. As he dropped to the floor, physics pulled the hem of his sweatshirt up along with the bottom of the tank top underneath to reveal abs that had Khione almost drooling. Once upon a time, she might have been brave enough to approach and steal him for a dance or two. She was not that woman anymore, so she stayed right where she was, admiring from afar.

She was so distracted with watching the miqo'te that she failed to notice when someone slid into the seat next to hers until they lightly tapped her on the shoulder, startling her.

“Well helllloooo there~” the newcomer crooned, leaning much too far into Khione’s personal space for her comfort.

The man was Hyur, on the average side of the height spectrum with dark, almond-shaped eyes that looked overly enthusiastic and gave Khione the heebie jeebies.

“Um…Hi?” Khione chuckled nervously, doing her best to scoot away from the man.

“The name’s Asahi, and my friend over there would -love- to get to know you.” The man gestured over to a nearby table, occupied by a  **very** tall and  **very** familiar man who was staring at Khione with frightening intensity, like a hunter assessing his prey. Khione took a big gulp of wine and averted her eyes. Of fucking course it was  _ him _ . She cursed her two-years-prior self for ever thinking it was a good idea to hook up with Zenos yae-fucking-Galvus. She cursed herself multiple times for calling on his  _ services _ more than a few additional times in those two years. Stupid, stupid, stupid, for getting involved with the Garlean Magitek princeling at all. There wasn’t enough wine in the world to ease the shame burning in her cheeks.

“Tell your friend that I’m not interested, just like every fucking other time he’s asked,” she snorted. “And tell him that he needs to stop texting me every fucking day.” 

She turned back to the group of dancers, only to find that Hoodie Guy had disappeared, much to her disappointment, but at least Asahi seemed to have also gotten the hint given the silence behind her. She moved to raise the glass of wine to her lips, but a warm, broad hand caught her wrist before she could take a sip.

“Might I steal you for a dance, Little Bird?” a sonorous male voice yelled over the din of thumping music and shouting people. Khione looked up, nearly dropping her glass in surprise to find Hoodie Guy standing there, the hand around her wrist most definitely attached to one of his arms, and suddenly she found herself thinking that she would give anything to see the rest of that arm. She barely even noticed his ears twitch nervously, or the way they flattened in relief when she didn’t reject him outright.

She blinked at him stupidly for a moment, then nodded, mute. Honestly, Khione felt that she didn’t necessarily need to see the rest of his face because those lips alone looked positively divine and maybe a small, quiet part of her that she had believed long since dormant wondered what it might be like to press her own lips against them.

Hoodie Guy helped her stand, leading her to a slightly-less-crowded spot on the dancefloor, closer to the periphery, as though he could read her hesitation to join the writhing mass of humanity in the centre of the room. More likely, she mused, he probably just thought he’d have a better chance of getting laid if they were a bit outside of the main crowd. She couldn’t say that she much minded.

“May I?” he purred in her ear, his hands hovering over her hips in a silent question. Khione found the gesture sweet and quite unexpected. 

“I…Yes, of course,” she chuckled, covering his hands with her own to guide them to her hips. Hoodie Guy pulled her close, warming her exposed back. 

“Do tell me if I do anything you don’t like, Little Bird,” he murmured, those full lips brushing the shell of Khione’s ear. “I tend to get a bit carried away when I dance.”

Khione nodded, too busy trying to remember how to dance with a guy to really say much. She hadn’t danced with anyone since— No, she wouldn’t think about that, not when Hoodie Guy’s sandalwood and cedar scent kept her anchored in the present. Unconsciously, she twined her fingers with his.

A new song started, and Hoodie Guy took the reins, gently leading Khione in a gentle sway of her hips in time with the music. A chuckle vibrated through his chest — and through Khione by extension given their proximity — when she fully relaxed and gave herself over to his control and the flow of the music, leaning her head back to rest slightly on his shoulder, eyes closed. All of her anxieties and hurts, the wall of ice she wore like a shield around her heart, they all melted in the warmth of Hoodie Guy’s arms.

_ “Dance the night away, live your life and stay young on the floor~ Oh, dance the night away, love somebody, drink a little more~” _

They swayed together, a singular unit where only their bodies and their souls existed, and even when one song ended and another began, he held her close, occasionally purring against her ear or brushing his lips teasingly across her cheek.

Even when he stopped swaying and spun her around to face him, the spell remained unbroken. Khione cocked her head like a curious bird, looking her companion over for any indication of what he might be thinking, but instead, he simply placed his hands back on her hips and pulled her close once more, his mouth a crooked smirk that had Khione’s face flushing a little.

She tentatively ran her hands up his chest, wishing he’d remove the hoodie so she might admire the sort of body that possessed such a firm, gentle strength and those abs she’d caught a flash of earlier. More purring rumbled through Hoodie Guy’s chest at the action, and he gave her hips a playful squeeze.

“Might I do something incredibly forward, Little Bird?” he asked, leaning down to brush another teasing ghost of a kiss to Khione’s ear. She nodded, her heart hammering in her chest.

Khione genuinely forgot how to breathe when he dipped his head to steal a kiss. Gods, his lips were just as soft as she’d been imagining, supple and pliant and tasting of strawberries. She kissed him back with surprising enthusiasm, her body heating up pleasurably. 

She was absolutely breathless when they broke apart, and very glad that S’zala had insisted on her wearing the “Kiss Proof” lipstick.

“Do it again,” she breathed, her hands moving into his hood to cradle his face and pull him back down for more. Hoodie Guy kindly obliged, his own hands moving just a little lower — enough to be cheeky while still being respectful.

With a groan, she moved to push his hood back, curiosity getting the better of her. Hoodie Guy broke the kiss, smirking.

“Ah ah ah,” he tutted, leaving a peck on the tip of her nose. “I’d really quite prefer to keep my hood up for now, Little Bird.”

Khione couldn’t help herself: She  _ pouted _ at him, the look worthy of even S’zala’s praise. “But—”

“Some things are simply better left a mystery.”

He didn’t give her time to argue further, pulling her back in for more kissing and dancing, and soon, Khione had forgotten that she was supposed to be miffed.

Many songs — hours? — later, Khione dragged Hoodie Guy over to her earlier table, delighted to find her friends (and a new glass of wine) still there. 

Perhaps it was simply the joy of letting go of her demons for a little while, or maybe it was the high that comes from doing something truly reckless, but Khione found herself feeling much like she had before… things. She felt lighter, jubilant, powerful.  **Bold.**

Hoodie Guy sat down in a seat, and Khione happily claimed her spot on his lap, a delighted shudder running through her at the rather noticeable bulge in his cotton harem pants. They all chatted, laughing and brilliant, lost in the energy of the room. Hoodie Guy occasionally stole more kisses, and all seemed right. "Thank y'all for more wine!" Khione chirped at Estinien since he was footing everyone's bill supposedly. Her friends gave her questioning looks, which Khione waved off in favour of grabbing the glass of wine and downing most of it in one go. Perhaps if she’d been more observant, she would have noticed that it was, in fact, the same glass of wine as earlier. Perhaps if she'd been more observant, she'd have noticed Hoodie Guy moving to stop her. Unfortunately, she was far too busy savouring the moment.

She started feeling the effects of the spiked drink fairly quickly. First, there was a ringing in her ears that made everything sound a little hollow. Then, the room began to spin. Her legs gave out under her when she stood to excuse herself for some air. She didn’t even notice when she spilled a fourth of a glass of red wine on her top. She blacked out soon after.

**Present Moment, 8:30 AM**

“So lemme get this straight,” Zaerise sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “In the three bells that we were on the upper floor of the club with the guys, you managed to reject  _ Zenos yae Galvus _ , makeout with some random dude whose name and face you don’t even know, and get yourself drugged?”

“Zae, you were sitting right there. I think you can confirm the fact that I got drugged, PLUS I reject Zenos yae Galvus  **every fucking week** ,” Khione huffed. As if on cue, her tomeStone buzzed in the specific pattern she'd set for the aforementioned Garlean irritation. Why she didn't just block him completely, she didn't know beyond a small voice in her head whispering 'at least someone pays attention to you.'

“Well, yes — though not every week, since you’ve definitely invited him over at least twice since we moved into this apartment — but anywa—” 

“I think Hoodie Guy tried to save you from drinking the spiked wine,” Sollielle mused, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “You said he stopped you from taking a sip of wine after that Asahi creep left the table, and then I saw him try to stop you again when you two got back from the dance floor. I didn't think drugging was Zenos's style, though.”

"It's not. As annoying as that spoiled blond princeling is, drugging me would be far too easy for him. He thinks we're playing some sort of weird game and eventually he'll 'catch' me or something. I dunno what that Asahi shithead was doing, but I'm like, 99% sure Zenos didn't sanction it," Khione groaned.

"Well, regardless, I think Hoodie Guy was being quite the dashing knight," Sollielle hummed into her teacup, smirking.

“Awwwwwwww Khi’s got an admirer!” S’zala giggled, poking Khione’s bicep. “I mean, he even gave you his hoodie!”

“Wait, what?” Khione froze mid-sip of coffee, frowning at her friend.

All three of her roommates gave her a “What the fuck?” look.

“Khione Agesandra North, you mean to tell me that you’ve been completely unaware this entire time that you’re still wearing Hoodie Guy’s hoodie?”

Khione looked down, a jolt of shock and panic running through her at the realisation that she was, in fact, wearing a red and black hoodie that was at least two sizes too big for her, and that smelled of sandalwood and cedar.

“…Motherfucker.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so kindly for reading!
> 
> The song is "On the Floor" by Jennifer Lopez.


	2. Dare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now for G'raha's perspective! Woooooo!
> 
> CW: Drink spiking

**Two Days Later, 9:00 AM**

G’raha Tia, Raha to his friends, didn’t mind being the TA for early-morning classes. He’d spent enough time napping during the summer break — what little he, as a third year PhD candidate, had — that he felt energised and ready to go. It certainly helped that Professor Lahabrea had let it slip to him that one of the incoming first year students was planning to focus on ancient history, which just so happened to be G’raha’s specialty. His tail swayed happily as he lost himself to a daydream of making a new friend and bonding over ancient artefacts.

It was soon broken by the sound of the classroom door opening.

A group of four young women plus a very tired-looking elezen male filed in, three of the women obviously pestering the fourth over somethi—

He froze in his thoughts when he laid eyes upon the fourth.

It was  _ her  _ and she was wearing  _ his _ sweatshirt from the other night. ‘Little Bird’ he had called her, because she had reminded him of a baby bird with big eyes that were so painfully guarded, and a sharp, hooked nose. He’d found her utterly entrancing in the darkness of The Crystarium. She stole his breath in the light of day.

“…what’re you going to do if he doesn’t go here?” Little Bird’s female elezen companion said, pursing her lips at the shorter hyur.

“Then I pretend the whole sordid evening never happened and keep the hoodie,” Little Bird shrugged, her voice even and bored. It hurt him, a little, to see that she’d once more thrown up the walls of ice he’d glanced in her eyes that night.

“Khi, you’ve been tossing your theories about ‘Hoodie Guy’ around the flat for the past two days. I highly doubt you’re going to forget the  _ entire _ evening,” the miqo'te in their group teased. She and the red-haired auri with the grumpy aura stayed close together, their fingers twined. The grumpy, silver-haired elezen male followed behind them with a small smirk. Huh...interesting.

“Ladies, please note the assigned seating and find your correct seat,” Professor Lahabrea directed from where he sat behind his desk, finishing up last-minute class notes.

The young women studied the chart for a moment, then dispersed to their assigned spots. G’raha made a point of staring out the window when Little Bird turned towards his general area of the room, and so focused on ignoring her was he that he didn’t hear her approach until she cleared her throat.

He looked up to find her staring at him with a gloriously bored, borderline grumpy expression, one hand on her hip.

“You’re in my spot,” she said, no hint of emotion beyond annoyance.

G’raha leapt up and gathered his things, blinking rapidly. “Uh, right, sorry.”

Little Bird did a double take, frowning at him for a moment, and G’raha was sure she recognised him.

“You forgot your coffee.”

He tried not to visibly relax as he turned to grab his cup of coffee. He was very, very confused.

G’raha took the desk next to Little Bird, doing his best not to stare at her. The cold young lady next to him, dressed in his red and black sweatshirt and a pair of black tights, seemed so at odds with the woman he’d danced — and made out— with just the other night. There was something frigid and brittle about her, an anxiety and tension to the way she held herself that he’d only seen hints of at The Crystarium. Certainly, he was beyond glad to see that she’d made it home safely, and he definitely felt no small amount of satisfaction is seeing her wearing his favourite hoodie, but this version of Little Bird scared him, and he didn’t even know her actual name. 

Class started, G’raha did his usual TA introduction, and then promptly proceeded to daydream, recalling the other night.

**Two Nights Previous, Time Unknown**

They always gathered around him. For as long as G’raha had been coming to The Crystarium every Friday night, people had been gathering to watch him dance. He didn’t mind, and in truth, part of him revelled in the attention — and the women fawning over him. He’d gotten laid plenty of times simply because he could dance and he wasn’t a jerk.

This night was no different until he noticed  _ her _ .

A young hyuran woman sat alone at a table near the edge of the dancefloor, slowly sipping a glass of red wine. She looked around curiously, doing her best to appear casual and self-assured, but the way she held her shoulders gave away the fact that she was very lost and lonely. He brought out his very best moves when she turned to watch his group and he could feel the weight of her silver baby-bird eyes upon his form. Did this woman even realise she had such a presence? 

G’raha was about to leave the group to go chat her up when he noticed Asahi sas Brutus slide into the chair next to the woman, whom G’raha had already taken to calling ‘Little Bird’ in his head. It took a lot of his willpower to refrain from audibly snarling at the way sas Brutus invaded Little Bird’s personal space, the slightly panicked expression on her face tugging at something protective in him.

She appeared to be rejecting whatever sas Brutus was saying. G’raha’s strange elation at the sight of Little Bird beginning to turn back to watch him was short-lived when he noticed sas Brutus drop something into her glass of wine, and his feet were moving before he could even think.

G’raha managed to grab her wrist right before she took a sip of the wine, and he schooled his expression into a sultry smirk — not that it was hard, given the way she jumped slightly upon seeing him, blushing — before he spoke, or, well, yelled. “Might I steal you for a dance, Little Bird?”

Part of him worried that she might also reject his advances, and he let out a sigh of relief when she nodded and stood.

G’raha Tia was not a tall man by any stretch of the imagination, but this young woman was decidedly  _ short _ , even in those ridiculous heels. Gods, his self-control was being tested by a leather miniskirt and a scrap of sparkling lace that could only barely be considered clothing.

He led her to a quieter spot, if only because he wanted to hear what her voice sounded like.

His instincts kicked in fairly quickly after that, and he marvelled at how perfectly his hands fit on her hips, the way she seemed to be perfectly made to fit against his body. Was it silly to be so enamoured of a woman he’d only just met, and whose name he didn’t even know? Perhaps, but damned if this didn’t feel  _ right _ .

G’raha’d only meant to share a dance or two with Little Bird, but minutes turned to an bell, turned to two, lost in the rhythm of the music, the two of them simply chatting and laughing about nothing in particular. Her friends had dragged her out to the club despite her initial hesitance. She was from Ishgard originally. Her favourite colour was blue, she loved Ala Mhigan food, and she thought he smelled nice. Somewhere, they both forgot to introduce themselves. No matter. There would be time for it later. 

He took every opportunity he could to breathe her in, to brush his lips over her soft skin, to get closer because it felt like there was a string connecting his heart to hers that was tugging their souls closer, closer.

Between songs, he finally gathered up the nerve to spin her to face him, desperately fighting the urge to laugh at the curious look she gave him. Instead, he opted for another smirk, satisfaction purring in his chest once more at the way her cheeks lit up with colour.

He shuddered slightly at the gentle hands that explored his torso, and part of him regretted wearing so many layers — he couldn’t help but wonder what it might feel like for those hands to explore his torso without any clothing at all between them. The thought had him actually purring.

_ “Is it true that you love me? I dare you to kiss me~ With everyone watching, it’s truth or dare on the dance floor~” _

“Might I do something incredibly forward, Little Bird?”

He whispered a kiss over her ear, then pulled back to watch her reaction, a thrill going through him when she nodded her assent.

G’raha.exe quit working when their lips met. The only thing that mattered was this tiny, beautiful Little Bird and how everything about her down to her preferences in food and the little noise she made when he nibbled on her lower lip was an answer to his very being.

He’d come to The Crystarium to dance that night. Instead, somehow, he’d gotten the answers to his universe. Perhaps it was the floofy strawberry drinks — plural — he’d had earlier talking.

He didn’t argue when she asked for more, but he forced himself to stop when she tried to remove his hood. He wasn’t sure he was ready for that just yet.

G’raha was sure he could’ve continued kissing Little Bird for hours, but eventually she tugged him over to her table, now populated by her friends and their companions — a tall raven-haired elezen man with eyes like Ishgardian glaciers, and a grumpy-looking elezen man with silver hair and a terrifying scowl.

He prayed she wouldn’t feel the fact that he was certainly more than a little…  _ excited _ when she decided to snuggle onto his lap, looking very pleased with herself. He didn’t mind her warm weight on his legs considering the fact that she barely weighed anything, he just didn’t wish to scare her away.

She didn’t seem particularly scared as she settled herself against him. If anything, she seemed quite happy when he wrapped an arm around her midsection to pull her close. 

Little Bird and her friends chatted for a while, and G’raha was content to simply hold the young woman, occasionally stealing kisses because he could and because the smile she gave him after each and every one had his heart jumping out of his chest. But she just had to reach out for the glass of wine — the definitely spiked glass of wine from which he’d saved her earlier — and he just had to be too slow to stop her from drinking most of it.

The spell was broken as anxiety took hold, and G’raha found himself watching Little Bird carefully, noting the exact moment she went from fine to not fine. He mentally prepared himself to carry her home if need be. He could feel her friends quietly growing concerned as they, too, noticed the changes in her demeanour.

The entire table leapt up to help Little Bird as she fell and spilled blood red wine on that beautiful, sinful top of hers. G’raha caught her with ease, cradling her to his chest for a moment. She had thoroughly blacked out.

Without thinking, he pulled his hoodie off, and Little Bird’s miqo'te friend helped him slip it on over the hyur’s ruined clothing. One of the elezen gentlemen — the black haired one who’d been flirting with the pretty elezen female in the group — offered to carry Little Bird home since he’d been invited to spend the night anyways. G’raha felt conflicted, but knew he had little claim over Little Bird, so he nodded and released her into the care of her friends.

“Please take care of her,” he yelled over his shoulder with a wave before disappearing back into the crowd.

He’d spent the entire rest of the weekend thinking about the silver-eyed hyuran woman who’d begun the process of stealing his heart in a single evening.

**Present Moment, 10:30 AM**

A firm kick-nudge at his foot had G’raha startling awake to find Little Bird standing over him, an eyebrow quirked.

“You said you study ancient history?” she asked coolly. Gods, his sweatshirt dwarfed her, and he found himself amazed at how good she looked wearing it as a dress over a pair of tights with combat boots.

G’raha blinked himself awake, staring for a moment.

“Well?”

“I, um, yes, that’s correct,” he stuttered, flustered at having been caught unawares. “Why?”

“Everyone else in this programme is focused on more modern history, so it looks like you’re stuck with me,” Little Bird shrugged. “Khione North.”

Wicked White…  _ She _ was the other ancient historian? He didn’t know whether to thank the Gods or to curse them.

“G’raha Tia, at your service,” he finally said, shooting her a cocky grin. “How about I buy you a cup of cof—”

“I’d rather not unless your intention is to discuss translations of ancient Allagan texts concerning Amaurot.”

Well…This was going well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed!
> 
> The song is "Dare (La La La)" by Shakira.


	3. Solar Sailer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dontcha just love the first day of class? Khione the Grumpy Magpie definitely does not.

**Earlier That Morning**

Khione wasn’t sure what was worse: The fact that she’d come out of her room that morning to find Aymeric, Sollielle’s long-time boy toy (okay, boyfriend given the fact they’d been dating since high school), cooking breakfast while wearing nothing but a frilly pink apron and a pair of boxer shorts; or the loud sounds of intimate activities coming from S’zala and Zaerise’s room. It  _ sucked _ being the single roommate, and there was not enough coffee in this world to turn the morning around in Khione’s mind.

“Ah, Khi, why am I not surprised to see you ready first?” Aymeric hummed, giving her a disgustingly beautiful smile. Aymeric had been a staple in Sollielle’s — and Khione’s by extension — life since the three of them were dorky middle schoolers, and while Khione was perfectly used to his presence and his penchant for cooking breakfast for all of them, she had not been prepared for such a level of undress at  **_seven in the fucking morning_ ** .

She grabbed her favourite ‘Can You Not?’ mug from the cupboard and filled it to the brim with her lifeblood, a.k.a. coffee, before plonking herself down at the table and pulling out her tomeStone. She had the usual five new messages from Zenos — all some variation on "Hey," "What's up?" "You going 2 the gym 2day?" — along with a message from her mother wishing her a good first day of her PhD programme, a message from her father reminding her to stop by Uncle Hades's office to say hello, and various spam emails. She only bothered to reply to her parents.

“Sol still getting ready?” she mumbled, peering over at her best friend’s partner with a mildly grumpy expression. 

Aymeric chuckled as he scooped a large pile of scrambled eggs onto two pieces of perfectly golden toast, walking over to set the plate in front of Khione. “I admittedly kept her up a little later than I perhaps should have, so she’s sleeping in for a few more minutes.”

Khione nodded in thanks at the food, even as colour stained her cheeks. She understood why the five other (three official and two unofficial) occupants of the flat constantly fussed over her like worried mother hens, making sure she ate and slept and socialised from time to time, but that didn’t mean she enjoyed it. At least Zaerise and Estinien were good about being subtle in their worrying.

She ate silently, scowling at the feeling of Aymeric watching her like a hawk. Again, she didn’t blame him, but her pride railed against it.

“What is your schedule looking like today? Unfortunately, I was placed in a different section, so my general schedule won’t match up with everyone else’s.” Aymeric smiled as he spoke, obviously trying to diffuse the cloud of grumpiness that hung around Khione. Only the sounds of Estinien growling — probably at S’zala — filled the silence. Just another Monday morning, really.

“Research Methods at nine, Intermediate Ancient Amaurotine at eleven, Career Skills at noon. Nothing exciting. I suppose Zae and Esti will drag me to the gym, the Blonde Fucker will challenge me to a spar, I'll humour him, the usual,” Khione stated, finishing her coffee. Aymeric was kind enough to refill it for her. She and her roommates had trained the men well. “My fun classes are all tomorrow.”

The elezen nodded, untying his apron and putting it back on its hook.

"Truly, I have no idea why you put up with yae Galvus still, other than the fact that I suppose his presence provides some strange form of stability and regularity to your life. It is most worrying."

Khione winced at the truth in his words. "Honestly, I just like the attention, I guess. It's nice to know that  **someone** in this shitty world thinks I'm worth chasing — oh, don't give me that look. I know it's unhealthy, but after the shit I went through with motherfucking Hien, I'll take my confidence boosts wherever I can get them. Plus, it’s not like I have an actual partner to satisfy certain needs, and even  _ I _ need a release every once in a while, and toys just don’t always do it for me."

Aymeric continued giving her a dubious, exasperated look, and Khione could almost hear the lecture that hovered on his tongue.

"Save it, Aymeric. Sollielle's given me this talk at least fifty times in the past six moons alone, and I really don't have the energy for it."

“If you will excuse me, then," Aymeric sighed after a few minutes of tense silence, "I am going to go get the others up and moving to ensure that no one is late for their first day of PhD classes.”

Khione mumbled a farewell and finished off her breakfast before returning to her room to get dressed.

**Beginning of Class, 9:00 AM**

After the initial shock of finding herself wearing a complete stranger’s sweatshirt had worn off on Saturday morning, Khione had decided that, until she could find Hoodie Guy and return the item to him, she would keep the sweatshirt and make good use of it. Thus, did she proudly walk into Classroom 014 wearing the red and black hoodie over a pair of jean shorts and black stockings, along with her favourite blue floral combat boots. 

In front of her, S’zala was sandwiched between Zaerise and Estinien, her cheeks flushed from the delightful wakeup call she’d received that morning, while Sollielle led their little group to the whiteboard to check the seating chart. They’d spent the entire walk to campus from their flat, along with the entire walk to the classroom, bugging Khione about her clothing choices for the day, along with much teasing about what they perceived to be a budding crush on Hoodie Guy. 

Glancing at the seat assignments, Khione was glad to see that she’d been given a seat by the window. She was not, however, glad to see that said seat was already occupied…. Even if the current occupant was rather cute, and decidedly staring at her. She huffed a ghost of a chuckle when he quickly turned to look out the window instead.

She trudged up to the male miqo’te, noting his long red hair braided and pinned back, his vivid scarlet eyes, the fullness of his lips. Once upon a time, she would have been all sorts of flustered at the way the rolled-up sleeves of his button-down shirt accentuated the lean muscles of his arms. Right now, she just wanted to sit.

Khione cleared her throat politely, and the male startled, looking up at her with wide eyes for a moment.

“You’re in my spot,” she explained, shifting her weight to one hip. The male mumbled his apology and moved his belongings — and his admittedly nice ass — to the next desk over, forgetting his coffee until Khione mentioned it to him.

She couldn’t understand why he kept staring at her whenever he thought she wasn’t looking. It wasn’t creepy, not in the way that men had often stared at her, and it wasn't overly-focused the way Zenos tended to be; it was more like she was some sort of puzzle that he was trying to figure out, a curiosity found mostly in scholars and academics trying to navigate the line between what they studied and the concept of a social life.

Before Khione could ask him what it was that he wanted, the professor stood up and began class.

“Now, given that you are all doctoral candidates, and therefore are considered ‘intelligent’ by most of society,” Professor Lahabrea sighed, as though speaking to a group of first year PhD candidates was the very last thing he wanted to be doing at that moment, “please do bear in mind that you will be held to higher standards than you have been previously — perhaps with the exception of Miss North…. Please do tell your father I say hello and that I look forward to our next debate on the presence of phantoms and spirits in world mythologies and what the scientific implications are of such — and that your advisors will not tolerate anything except your finest work.”

Khione groaned, sinking into her seat a little. She was used to professors putting her up on a pedestal due to her parents, but just like with her friends’ fussing, being used to something didn’t mean she had to enjoy it.

“Now, in regards to this class, I will be teaching all of you proper research methods this semester, and proper research writing next semester. You would do well to pay close attention. However, if, for whatever paltry reason, you manage to fail to grasp what I am trying to teach you, we do have a TA for this class — and I believe he will also be the TA for the rest of this section’s classes as well as any ancient history courses you might take. G’raha, I suggest you quickly introduce yourself.”

Professor Lahabrea gestured to the red-haired miqo’te, much to Khione’s surprise. While he didn’t exactly look dumb, he definitely struck Khione as a bit…ditzy. Certainly not TA material.

The male stood up, his tail swaying softly, and Khione had the small thought that it might be funny to reach out and pet it. He cleared his throat, fisting his hands at his sides.

“Ah…. Well, um, yes, hello,” he began. Khione was struck by how lovely his voice was. It was honeyed and growly, without being too deep or rough, and it made her think of a mountain lion sunning itself in a forest clearing by the shores of a great river: rich and warm with just a hint of mischief, faltering at times with what she recognised to be self-consciousness, yet sure enough that perhaps he did belong in these hallowed halls after all. After taking a moment to look around at all of the first years, Khione included, the male continued. “I am G’raha Tia, and as Professor Lahabrea already explained, I will be the TA for this class, along with your Career Skills class, as well as the ancient history and language classes. I’m originally from a small, no-name village of no import in La Noscea, but I’ve spent a fair bit of time travelling. I received my bachelor’s degree in history from the University of Sharlayan, my Masters of Science in ancient history from Sultana’s University in Ul’dah, and I’m currently in my third year of the doctorate, working under Professor Emet-Selch on the intersection of Ancient mythology and the Allagans, and their influence on modern history. My contact information will be listed in all of your syllabi, so please don’t hesitate to reach out if you need anything.”

Khione blinked once, twice, thrice, surprised. Cute  _ and _ brilliant. He’d attended some of the finest universities in the world, but he still fidgeted nervously speaking to a group of first years? It simply didn’t make sense.

It didn’t occur to her that she was staring at him until Estinien poked her on the back of her neck with a snicker. Thankfully, G’raha had fallen asleep, giving Khione the perfect excuse to actually focus on whatever Professor Lahabrea was saying about the syllabus.

The rest of the class period passed in a blur, filled with the usual syllabus day talks. Khione spent much of it, surrounded by his scent as she was, daydreaming of Hoodie Guy. Gods, she prayed she could find him to get rid of this damned sweatshirt, so that she might be able to just move on with her life and forget about how  _ good _ it felt to connect with a complete stranger on such a deep level that she had forgotten all the pain of the past few years. She honestly wouldn’t mind a bit more of that kissing action, either.

At last, they were dismissed, and somehow, G’raha the TA was still sound asleep, resting his head on his arms while his tail swished lazily in his sleep. Khione supposed it was a sign from the gods to actually talk to the guy, considering his research overlapped with her own. Sighing, she stood and slung her bag over her shoulder. Gently, she nudged his foot with the toe of her boot, scowling.

“You said you study ancient history?” she asked, and she cursed herself for how cold and witchy she sounded, but it was too late now. She couldn’t help but blush as G’raha’s eyes travelled up her body — again, it wasn’t a creepy sort of thing like most men tended to do, but rather it was appreciative and curious, bordering on impressed. Something in the back of Khione’s head crowed with delight at the fact that the handsome older guy was looking at her with such…awe.

Too bad she was still a bitch.

“Well?”

G’raha stuttered, his ears fluttering nervously. It was really kinda cute.

“I, um, yes, that’s correct,” the miqo’te finally managed, standing once he’d gathered his things. Holy Halone, there was something beautiful and fluid about his movements that sent a shiver down Khione’s spine. Or perhaps it was the air conditioning?

Khione pushed the flirty, feminine side of herself down, willing it to just shut up already.

“Everyone else in this programme is focused on more modern history, so it looks like you’re stuck with me…. Khione North,” she shrugged, giving him a cool once over.

G’raha gave her a cocky grin that had that flirty, feminine side of her railing against her more practical side because hot damn. “G’raha Tia, at your service. How about I buy you a cup of cof—”

Oh no, she wasn’t falling for those honeyed words again. Not after Hien.

“I’d rather not unless your intention is to discuss translations of ancient Allagan texts concerning Amaurot,” she snapped, pursing her lips at him. He might be cute, but she had long since hardened her heart to just  _ cute _ . Pretty faces were just a recipe for trouble.

The miqo’te’s ears drooped slightly as he deflated a bit, but Khione remained unfazed. S’zala would probably have yelled at her for being so quick to reject him, but S’zala wasn’t here and Khione was perfectly happy with remaining in her own little icy bubble. The other night with Hoodie Guy had been a fluke, nothing more. Still, it might be nice to at least try to make a new friend, especially if they were going to be researching similar subjects.

“I have class in thirty minutes,” she sighed as she pulled out a block of sticky notes and a pen. She scribbled a string of digits on it, along with her name. “But text me, and maybe we can meet up sometime to discuss research topics and advisors.”

She thrust the note into his hands and turned on her heel to leave, trying to hide her blush. “And don’t steal my seat next time.”

Unsurprisingly, her friends, the nosy fuckers, were standing outside the classroom door waiting for her with giant, shit-eating grins on their faces.

“Uh oh~ Looks like Hoodie Guy has competition from the cute TA~” S’zala teased, aiming a poke at Khione’s ribs. The hyur swatted the miqo’te’s hand away with a half-hearted hiss. 

“I’m quite sure I have no idea what you’re talking about, Zala,” Khione huffed, stomping in the direction of her next class. Even though she knew G’raha Tia would be the TA for that one, too, she still wished to put as much distance between her flustered face and that crooked smile that seemed so achingly familiar but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

“Oh, come ooooon, Khio, you were  _ totally _ checking him out and staring!”

“I thought he looked familiar, that’s all.”

The entire group seemed to tune in at that point.

“Familiar as in Hoodie Guy familiar?” Zaerise chuckled, giving Khione a cat smirk.

“No.”

And that was that.

Even if she had thought the exact same thing.

She would have to conduct more research over the weekend.

Thankfully, there were no assigned seats in her next class, and she made sure to grab the window seat  _ before _ anyone else could take it. G’raha sauntered in a few minutes later, smiling gently when he spied her already seated with her notebook and planner out. Khione tried to burrow herself further into the oversized hoodie she was wearing, the scent of cedar and sandalwood soothing her flustered mind. She definitely did not check out G’raha’s ass as he walked past to sit behind her.

“You’ll enjoy this professor, I think,” he hummed, leaning forward to share the observation. Khione turned to look at him, schooling her face into a bored expression. It wasn't difficult, considering the fact that Hythlodaeus was one of her father's oldest friends, but she played along nonetheless.

“Is that so?”

He grinned, nodding. “Professor Hythlodaeus is one of the best lecturers at the university. He’s challenging, but fair, and he’s quite passionate about Amaurotine culture and language. He literally wrote  _ the _ textbook on the Amaurotine language, although he’s a bit rusty on the full history. It’s a long story.”

Khione blinked at him a few times, noting the way his scarlet eyes sparkled as he spoke. Yes, he would make a good new friend. She just hoped she could trust him.

The rest of the day was much the same: Go to class, sit with G’raha, receive lots of insider information from aforementioned miqo’te, try not to daydream too much, ignore more texts and propositions from Zenos, rinse, and repeat. It wasn’t a particularly bad day, and by the end of it, Khione found that she was already appreciating the male’s presence, loathe as she was to admit that she needed anyone new in her life.

By the time she got home after an afternoon spent very much alone in the library, and an evening of training with Zaerise, Estinien, and, of course (and unfortunately), Zenos, Khione was thoroughly exhausted. She’d known that this week would be difficult and tiring on so many levels. It had been almost two years since last she’d been in a school setting, after all. Two years since she'd damned herself with shitty choices and trust placed in questionable people. She knew she needed to eat before Sollielle kicked down her door to force-feed her, but honestly, Khione couldn’t be bothered to do anything except lie halfway on her bed, scrolling through FaceSpace with no real interest. 

She had a few new friend requests, just various over-eager people from her classes, none of whom really caught her interest in any way. Her parents had posted pictures from their latest holiday to Costa del Sol — good, they’d needed a break after the three straight moons of academic conferences they’d been speaking at. Of course, S’zala, Zae, and Estinien were having meme wars, while Sollielle was religiously documenting her PhD journey already. Zenos had messaged her exactly thirty minutes after she left the gym, meaning he was probably drunk and preparing to send her dick pix, so she pointedly deleted that message thread. There was the usual political chatter, lots of advertisements for clothes that Khione might have once wanted but now couldn’t bring herself to care, cute animal videos, and the like. It was all almost enough to lull her to sleep then and there…. Until her tomeStone chirped and buzzed so loudly that it startled her into dropping the device on her face.

“Gah! Motherfucker, who’s texting me at this hour…?” she grumbled, rubbing her nose lightly. It wasn’t particularly late, she just wasn’t used to anyone except the blonde Garlean pest texting her, given the fact that anyone else who might want or need to text her lived with her, or knew her schedule well enough to know that she was probably busy. She pulled herself the rest of the way onto the bed and closed the FaceSpace app, switching over to messages. 

There was a new text from a number she didn’t recognise, but she had a feeling she knew who it was regardless.

_ ‘Hello, sorry for only just now getting around to texting you. I’ve been working on a new theory with Professor Emet-Selch and lost track of the time. I hope the rest of your first day went well. Maybe I could get you that cup of coffee tomorrow before your advisory meeting with him? I mean, I assume you’ll be meeting with him since you said you’re studying ancient Amaurot and he’s the foremost scholar on the matter but really all the professors in the ancient history department are great but yeah….. Coffee?’ _

Khione blinked, unsure of how to react to the rambling message. It was…cute. She could sense his self-consciousness in every word, the shyness she’d glanced in every class that morning. Of course, the dumbass forgot to mention who he was in the text. She decided she’d make him suffer a little.

_ ‘I’m sorry, I don’t recognise the number, and I definitely -don’t- accept date invitations from unknown strangers. Pls kindly identify yourself before I block this number:)’ _

She watched and smirked as a typing bubble almost immediately appeared once her message had been marked as ‘read.’ Adorable.

_ ‘Oh! Gosh! This is G’raha Tia and I’m so sorry I completely forgot that you probably didn’t have my number since no one really reads the syllabuses (syllabi?) so I shouldn’t be surprised and I really do apologise.’ _

Khione chuckled, amused by the image forming in her mind of the miqo’te cursing himself for a fool. Perhaps she should put him out of his misery. Her tomeStone pinged again. Apparently, G’raha the TA was not afraid of double texting.

_ ‘I really would love to chat with you about your research and any questions you might have about, well, anything. I hope you don’t think me too forward ^^;’ _

Yes, now she really needed to put him out of his misery.

_ ‘Lol don’t sweat it. As long as you’re offering to pay, I will never say no to coffee. I’ll see you at 8:15. Don’t be late.’ _

She watched for another half bell as the typing bubble appeared and disappeared multiple times before disappearing for good.

Then it hit her that she had, in fact, just agreed to a date of sorts. Twelve, her friends were not going to let her hear the end of it. Best to go get it over with now.

Groaning, Khione rolled off her bed, taking a moment to change out of her stockings and shorts and into a pair of soft flannel emerald carbuncle pyjama pants. She made quick work of removing her bra without removing her  _ Ascians _ t-shirt or Hoodie Guy’s sweatshirt, and tied her unruly hair into a messy bun atop her head before wandering out to the living room where her friends were all gathered. A gentle, synth-y song pulsed in the background, giving the room a relaxed vibe.

“You’re blushing, Kiki,” Sollielle stated not two seconds after Khione walked into the room. Khione tried her best not to scowl too much. “Hoodie Guy, Zenos, or the hot TA?”

Okay, now Khione allowed herself to scowl. “Huh?”

“Khione Agesandra North, I’ve known you since we were six, and the only time you  _ ever _ wear that sort of awkward, fidgety expression while blushing is when there’s a guy involved. Currently, there are exactly three guys who it could logically be, so that begs the question: Hoodie Guy, Zenos, or Hot TA?”

Well, that made things a little easier for her, then. No need for awkward preambles…. But—

“I definitely do not have an ‘awkward, fidgety’ expression, and I will  **never** consider Zenos,” she pouted, frowning at her friend.

“You definitely do,” S’zala chirped from her perch on Estinien’s lap. Zaerise, sitting with her back against Estinien’s legs while their girlfriend braided her hair, nodded her agreement. Aymeric, sitting next to Sol with an arm around her shoulders, had the good sense to refrain from adding any further commentary. 

Khione grumbled, trudging over to flop down on one of the bean bags in front of the unlit fireplace. “Have I mentioned today how much I hate you all?”

“You’re stalling, Khio~” S’zala giggled, her tail swishing playfully.

“Ugh fine. Hot TA. I’m meeting him for coffee tomorrow morning.”

“Pay up, bitches,” Zaerise hummed, smirking at the entire room. “Told ya he’d ask her on a date fi—”

“It’s not a date, we just have similar research topics and he offered to buy me coffee,” Khione protested. “I’m no—”

“Khi, take it from a dude,” Estinien huffed, resting his chin on S’zala’s shoulder. “It’s definitely a date.”

Khione shot the silver-haired elezen a glare, daring him to continue. This was exactly why she hated sharing such things with her little found family. Nosy gits, the lot of them.

“Date or not,” Sollielle hummed, “I think it’s a good sign that he invited you to coffee despite how bitchy you can be — and I say that with the utmost love, you frigid bitch”

Khi rolled her eyes and smirked at her friend, relaxing into the bean bag. “Love you too, bitch.”

They all sat in silence for a while. Aymeric, ever the kind soul, made them all some mint tea. As if somehow knowing that Khione had not yet eaten, he also brought out a plate of sandwiches and fruit, making sure to place them in front of the tiny hyur.

There was idle chatter about potential advisors, research strategies, class schedules, new classmates, sports scores, and the like — all the sorts of conversations that turned the three-bedroom flat into a proper home for the strange little family.

“Please tell me you’ve got a cute outfit planned, Khio,” S’zala piped up just as Khione had been in the process of dozing off. The hyur grumbled and brought herself back into full consciousness.

“Why? It’s not a date.”

The miqo’te groaned. “This time, maybe not, but if it goes well and you make a good impression, it could turn into something.”

“Zala, I’m not interested in it turning into anything. He’s just being nice.”

“Khio, lemme see the texts and I’ll be the judge of whether or not it has the potential.”

Khione narrowed her eyes, but grudgingly handed her tomeStone over.

It was always amazing how quickly S’zala could read when it came to gossip. Khione definitely didn’t like the mischievous glint in the miqo’te’s eyes.

“He’s totally interested in you.”

“S’zala Faene, there is no way you could possibly get that from a few tex—”

“No, Kiki, she’s definitely right,” Sollielle chuckled from where she stood over S’zala’s shoulder. “Like, yes, he definitely seemed kinda shy when he was introducing himself in class this morning, but these texts aren’t just shy; they’re downright nervous. At the very least, I’d bet good money he thinks you’re cute.”

“He wouldn’t be wrong, either,” Zaerise added. She’d moved from the floor to the sofa, using Estinien’s lap as a pillow in S’zala’s absence. “I mean, there’s a reason Zal and I tried to court you back in undergrad.”

Khione could feel her face heating up, and she wanted nothing more than to retreat back into her room. However, after years of experience, she was smart enough to know that S’zala would help her choose an outfit whether Khione wanted her to or not.

“Ugh, fine. What would  _ you _ have me wear, oh mighty fashion cat?”

S’zala’s smirk was nothing short of triumphant as she grabbed Khione by the wrist and dragged her off to the bowels of multiple closets. Zaerise and Sollielle followed closely behind, while Aymeric and Estinien simply sat back and enjoyed their tea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed it so far!
> 
> Song is "Solar Sailer" by Daft Punk (from TRON: Legacy)  
> 
> 
> If you're interested in the super awesome community of writers, readers, and artists who helped inspire this fic, then this Discord server is for you! https://discord.gg/K9M4ff


	4. Mad World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coffee date that's totally not a date. Totally.

**The Next Morning, 7:45 AM**

G’raha Tia was very early, and very nervous.

In all honesty, he hadn’t actually expected Little Bird — Khione — to actually take him up on his offer. Hoped, certainly, but not expected.

Khione…. He chewed on the name, tasted it, let it roll over his tongue like a warm drink on a cold winter’s day. Pronounced KHEE-oh-nay. ‘Snow’ in Ancient Amaurotine, the name passed down from Amaurot to Allag and into the modern day, primarily in the Ishgardian bloodlines. Very fitting for a woman of the snowy mountains of Coerthas. Having looked over the class rosters yesterday — for purely practical reasons given his position as TA for all upper-level ancient history courses, mind you — he wondered what the middle initial ‘A’ stood for. It was probably best not to ask, lest she think him strange and creepy. The last thing he wished to do was scare her away when something about her, buried deep beneath her icy façade, felt so skittish and fragile.

She certainly hid it well as she strolled into the campus coffeeshop. Even if he hadn’t been watching the door like a hawk, he would’ve known she’d arrived the moment her blackcurrant-rose-white jasmine-and-lime scent embraced him like a familiar ghost, haunting him since the weekend previous.

She carried herself regally, the hem of her black lace-and-cotton duster whispering over the hardwood floor, juxtaposing with the  _ tack tack tack _ of her heeled booties. A queen in distressed jeans and a halter-neck crop top. G’raha felt very underdressed in his long-sleeved university t-shirt and a pair of jeans.

He stood with a dancer’s grace, crossing the room in three strides just in time to hand over his credit card to the cashier once Khione had finished ordering. He loosed a small chuckle at the way she startled, a hint of rose blooming high on her cheeks. She mumbled a thanks and took the — very large, he noticed — cup of black coffee from the barista before turning to take it over to the fixing station, where she proceeded to dump an ungodsly amount of sugar in. A woman after his own heart.

G’raha led her over to the table, trying not to seem  _ too _ excited that she’d actually shown up as he pulled out the chair for her.

“I see you’re as strict about arriving early as I am,” he noted with a chuckle and a smirk. It earned him another of those lovely blushes that sent his tail swaying eagerly and his ears fluttering.

Khione, Twelve bless her, maintained a straight face. Only the slightest quirk of one of her arched eyebrows gave away any hint of a reaction.

“Time is as much a currency as gil. Better to arrive early so as to have more of it, than to arrive late and lose out,” she shrugged, taking a long sip of coffee.

“Well, you’re not wrong.” He added a little nod of agreement, unable to stop himself from just…smiling at her. If nothing else, he was excited about the potential of making a new friend. Admittedly, he was also quite a fan of her father’s work in the field of quantum aetherology. Agesander North’s work had some stunning implications, not just for the scientific community, but also for the historian community, given how important the understanding of aethereal physics was to understanding civilisations like Allag and Amaurot. Kore North’s work in bio-aetherology was no less impressive. It would be unfair, however, to compare Khione to either of her parents. G’raha had read her master’s dissertation the night before, as well as her admissions essays and the thesis proposal that had earned her a spot here at Exarch University — one of the world’s top universities. When it came to the Ancients and Amaurot, this tiny woman had the potential to become a top expert. There was just one thing about her academic history that gave him pause, a sudden and rapid decline in her grades during her first semester of the master’s programme, followed by a complete disappearance until the following spring when she’d submitted her master’s thesis (receiving top marks, of course) and then radio silence for another full year before applying to—

“Is something wrong?”

Khione’s voice snapped G’raha back to the present, and it was now his turn to blush beet red as he shook his head clear. She was watching him with that same, bored expression as before. He couldn’t help but chuckle nervously.

“Oh! Uh… I…. Nope, nothing wrong.”

“Then why are you staring at me like that?”

His ears flattened against his head, another nervous laugh escaping him. “Apologies for that. I didn’t get to sleep until fairly late, so I’m still waking up.” It was a lie, but it was better than telling her he’d spent the entire evening digging through her admissions file to try to figure out the cause of the gap in her educational timeline. Yeah, that would definitely  _ not _ win him her friendship, let alone a date. Not that he was hoping to earn himself a date anyways.

She let out a little snort that he took to be an amused sound. “Gotta love that academic life, huh?” Her smirk was nothing short of wicked.

“Hah. You get used to it quickly, honestly. Lots of long nights, longer days, and poor meal choices. People aren’t kidding when they call us ‘starving students.’”

He immediately regretted his words because Khione visibly flinched at the last bit of his statement, and there was something in her eyes for the briefest moment that nearly broke his heart. Right. Jokes about starving. No go. He quickly moved to change the subject.

“But really, it’s not a bad life. You get to meet some truly wonderful, brilliant people, and read all sorts of valuable books and documents, and Norvrandt City’s a lot of fun, too. Have you been to The Crystarium yet?”

Wicked White, his brain hated him today. Really, Raha? He was really going to ask her about The Crystarium when he was actively trying to avoid revealing to her that he was the ‘Hoodie Guy’ her friends had been teasing her about, and whose sweatshirt she’d been wearing the day before? Lyna would be howling with laughter at him right now.

“I have, yeah. Why?”

He gave her his best nonchalant shrug and a casual smirk, then hid his blush in a long sip of his own drink. “No reason. It’s a really popular hangout spot on the weekends, and a great place to meet people.”

Khione considered his words for a moment and shrugged. “I’m definitely planning to go back this weekend.” He didn’t know whether to be happy or scared by the thought. “Is it better to go on Fridays or Saturdays?”

He pretended to think, tapping his chin with the tip of his pointer finger. “Fridays. On Saturdays, you get all the creepy older people who are too tired from working all week to go out on a Friday. Don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of creeps out and about on Fridays, but they can be mitigated by threatening to report them to the University’s conduct council. The creeps who show up on Saturdays don’t answer to the University, and they tend to think that having money means they can get away with a lot more.”

It wasn’t a lie. There  _ were _ any number of reasons why Fridays were superior days for young women like Khione. His main reason, however, was far less altruistic. Fridays were his designated partying days, and damn if he didn’t hope she’d want to see him — well, Hoodie Guy him — again.

Khione nodded, giving him the slightest hint of a smile. “Thanks. I’ll be sure to pass the message onto my friends.”

They sat in awkward — for him, at least — silence for a few minutes. G’raha took the opportunity to observe her further. 

The first thing he noticed was that the bottom quarter of her long, wavy mane of hair was a pale ice blue, as though her entire head had once been such a colour, but she’d let it grow out. The second thing he noticed was the intricate tattoo running up the inside of her left forearm. The third thing he noticed was the intensity of her quicksilver eyes as she watched him watching her.

“You really enjoy staring at me, don’t you?” she purred, her mouth a wicked crimson-painted smirk. Oh, what he would not give to taste those lips agai— No, get your shit together, G’raha Tia. This was no time for pining over a woman you’d only just recently met.

He shot her an equally wicked smirk to hide the conflicting emotions battling in his chest and head. “Just trying to get a good read on my new research buddy.”

Bingo. Her smirk softened into something playful, but no less dangerous.

“Is that what we are now? Research buddies? I don’t remember agreeing to such a thing.”

Oh Gods, her voice was sultry and lilting and sent his thoughts in all the wrong directions, but he was far too invested in this little game to stop now, and so he forced his way through the rising panic, willing himself to stay cool.

“As of this moment, you and I are the only people in any of the doctoral programmes at the university who are studying anything older than Mhach, ergo, we’re now research buddies.” He finished his statement with a charming, catlike grin and a cheeky wink, and no amount of coffee sipping could hide Khione’s blush.

“I suppose you have a point,” she managed after a  _ very _ long sip of coffee. “Very well. Tell me about your research.”

Much to G’raha’s surprise, she leaned forward, resting her chin on the upturned heel of her hand. She was now close enough that he could see the flecks of gold around her pupils that gave her eyes a slightly pewter hue.

“I started off as a student of literature, actually, but realised that I actually wished to study the great deeds of others rather than simply reading fictionalised accounts. My favourites were always the heroes of Allagan mythology, which themselves came from the mythology of the Ancients. I’m doing my thesis on a comparison of the actual historical figures and the stories written about them in Allagan mythology.”

G’raha nearly purred when Khione made what could only be called a true thinking face before actually  _ smiling _ . It was a small, soft smile, but it was a smile nonetheless.

“That actually sounds really fascinating, and definitely in line with what I intend to study.”

“Which is…?”

She chuckled, finishing her coffee. “I intend to study the idea of the ideal being in Amaurotine society, focusing primarily on King Aidoneus and Queen Persephone.”

G’raha’s eyebrows shot up. He knew she’d be ambitious. He didn’t realise she’d be  _ this _ ambitious.

“You mean to tell me that you’re going to attempt to study the founding monarchs of Amaurot?”

“Only as a case study. Amaurot’s influence is still felt in our own modern society, primarily because of the ideals that Aidoneus and Persephone set forth. They were the ones who shaped it into the mightiest empire the world’s ever seen, and I wish to know how.”

She smiled at him as though she had not just declared her intention to more or less rewrite the book on how scholars viewed the Ancients. Was it possible to fall in love with someone so quickly, because if so, maybe he needed to volunteer with the biology and psychology departments so they could study how it was possible to do so?

And then he saw her face, and he realised that he was almost certainly looking at her with a gobsmacked expression, because that smile had disappeared, and her brow had furrowed, and she looked nervous, and scared, and  _ sad _ .

“You think I’m crazy, don’t you?” she murmured, chewing on the inside of her cheek. She ran a hand through her hair, pushing it back and away from her face while she refused to look at him. G’raha’s ears drooped, and he poked her shin with his tail.

“I-I don’t think you’re crazy,” he said, trying to give her an encouraging smile if only she would just look at him. “Ambitious, certainly, but progress has never been made without ambition, and it sounds like you already know what you’re talking about. I think that it’ll be difficult, but if it helps, I’ll do whatever I can to make it easier for you.”

Khione finally looked up at him, and it struck G’raha how very vulnerable she was allowing herself to be, if only for this one moment. Then the walls went back up.

_ “All around me are familiar faces, worn out places, worn out faces~” _

“So, G’raha Tia,” she began, that wicked smirk returning. “You got a girlfriend?”

He froze. “No…. Why?”

Her smirk turned into a wolf’s grin, and she barked out a sharp laugh. “Honestly? I was just curious. No need to look so terrified.”

G’raha relaxed, chuckling once the shock had worn off. “Touché, Khione North. What about you? Do you have anyone warming your bed?”

Khione’s smile fell just short of reaching her eyes. “Nah. I don’t have time for such frivolities, nor do I have a whole lot of interest. I have a vague acquaintance-with-benefits who’s more pest than anything else, and I really probably need to just cut him out of my life completely. Otherwise, I’m more of a ‘makeout with random guys in a nightclub and hope to take them home with me’ sort of girl at the moment, but even that’s not really a priority, and it’s actually just this one particular guy I met last weekend. Wouldn’t mind actually getting to take him home.” She shrugged, but G’raha was far too busy internally screaming to really notice.

She was talking about him. Of course, she didn’t realise it, but she. was. talking. about. him. She wanted to see him again. She wanted to bring him home with her. She was still thinking about him. Play it cool, Raha. Play it cool.

“Sounds like a lucky guy,” he chuckled. “Just do be sure to be safe. I’d rather not have to wait another three years for a new research buddy.”

After that comment, she seemed to relax, and conversation began to flow naturally. They discussed all manner of topics — he learned the names of her friends: Sollielle Ferdillaix, S’zala Faene, and Zaerise Sunheart. He also learned the exact dynamic of their group. Sollielle was dating Aymeric de Borel, while Zaerise and S’zala were in a polyamorous relationship with Estinien Wyrmblood. Khione was stuck as the constant sixth wheel, but didn’t particularly seem to mind, and G’raha could tell from how she spoke of her friends that they were as much her family as her own parents. He found himself not a little jealous.

When the chapel bells tolled nine, they walked to class together, and it all felt so beautifully, perfectly organic. She was still icy, certainly, but she gave him little pieces of information that he stored in his mind so that perhaps one day, he might forge a key from them to truly unlock the depths of this strange woman.

At the end of the day, they agreed to meet for coffee again the next morning, and every weekday morning after that, given their identical schedules.

Before they knew it, it was Friday once more.

_ “When people run in circles it’s a very, very mad world~” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hold onto your hats, ladies and gents, the next chapter's gonna be an adventure. I hope y'all enjoyed this one! Don't forget to leave a comment!
> 
> Song is "Mad World" by Gary Jules.
> 
> If you're interested in the super awesome community of writers, readers, and artists who helped inspire this fic, then this Discord server is for you! https://discord.gg/K9M4ff


	5. Ojos Así

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehe

**Five Months Later, Friday Evening, 9:00 PM**

It was truly incredible what a pair of thigh-high, 5”-heeled gladiator sandals could do for a girl’s confidence. Nevermind what cutting Zenos out of her life had done for her mental and emotional progress. 

Khione couldn’t help but admire the way the tight leather booty shorts she’d chosen for the evening actually gave her an ass, or the way her ink-blue leather harness bra-top-thing made her look like some sort of warrior queen. Zaerise, queen of badass hairstyles, had braided the left side of Khione’s hair, and Sollielle, with her infinite makeup wisdom, had opted for a slightly gothic look. In other words, Khione was ready to kick ass, take names, reject Zenos yae Galvus (as she had done every night for the past four and a half moons), and steal hearts.

She just prayed Hoodie Guy would be there. He had been every Friday since that first dance they'd shared, but the nervous bits of herself couldn't help but hope that he'd continue to show up.

She’d brought his hoodie, freshly washed, with her in hopes of seeing him again. Well, one of his hoodies. They'd taken to exchanging the sweatshirts each week. He'd give her the one he was wearing, she'd return the one he'd given her the week previous. It was a nice system.

The moment she stepped out into the chilly, mid-autumn air, she’d happily shrugged the sweatshirt on for the walk to the aethernet station, taking it off only once she was inside the electric warmth of The Crystarium.

“I don’t know why you’re fidgeting like a nervous mouse, Kiki,” Sollielle teased, doing last-minute touch ups of Khione’s makeup in the powder room of the club. “If it weren’t for the fact that you’re a midget and I’m already spoken for, plus the fact that Zae and Zal might murder me if I did so, I’d totally bang you. Nevermind the fact that Hoodie Guy shows up at your side like, the minute you arrive.”

Khione rolled her eyes, grinning at her best friend all the same. “The feeling’s mutual, Sol.”

They left all but their tomeStones in little lockers, slipping the keys onto the hair ties they both wore around their wrists.

“Need me to come with you?” Sollielle asked. Khione smiled at the elezen, shrugging. “I appreciate it, but I think Aymeric might miss you, and honestly, I’d rather not scare him away with my terrifyingly tall best friend just yet. I don't even know his name even though it's been five months. I don't think he's ready to meet the family.”

Sollielle chuckled, lightly punching Khione in the arm. “Knock ‘im dead, Kiki. And text me at least twice an hour, okay? Three times if the Blonde Fucktard gives you any grief.”

“Yeah, yeah. Go find your man, you fussy mother hen.”

Sollielle sauntered off with one last look of amusement, leaving Khione alone at a high-top table with a closely-guarded glass of wine (only after she’d done a shot or two of lime-flavoured vodka) and her tomeStone for company. She had been texting with G’raha all day — as she did every day —, and he’d made her promise to give him regular updates on her adventures at The Crystarium since he claimed to be so bogged down with work, he’d be unable to enjoy his Friday night. That was always his excuse, and maybe a small part of her was always a little disappointed, but she still smiled at their back and forth, even if she didn’t realise she was doing so.

Khione got the distinct impression she was being watched, but when she looked around to see who might be watching her, all she saw were the usual oglers, sizing her up as a potential partner for the evening. A look over her shoulder confirmed exactly where the sensation was coming from: Zenos, approaching her as he did every Friday, to invite her to join him in one of the VIP lounges for another hookup.

"You already know my answer, Zenos," she sighed, frowning up at the hulking man. "I'm not interested. It’s been nearly five moons. Accept the loss and move on."

Zenos chuckled, sweeping a low bow with that usual feral grin of his. "It is heartening to see that you still enjoy this game of ours."

Khione rolled her eyes, turning to put her back to the Garlean, but he reached out, grasping her shoulder with a too-warm, too-large hand, forcing her to remain facing him.

“I am growing tired of this act you insist on maintaining, my dearest friend,” Zenos huffed, meeting Khione’s eyes with an intensity that pinned her to the table. “The hunted can only evade the hunter for so long.”

“Okay, first of all,” Khione snapped, narrowing her eyes, “that’s fucking creepy. Second of all, I’m  _ done _ with you. We agreed no strings, no feelings, nothing, because I’m. Not. Interested. In. You. I never have been. You’ve been nothing but unhealthy for me, and I’m tired of mired in my past, so please kindly see yourself out. Buh. Bye.”

Zenos gave another of those dark, terrible chuckles, but nodded and turned to leave. “You’ll be back. Individuals such as us, people who are smarter and stronger and bolder than the common rabble, we don’t last very long without each other, and I know that you certainly won’t last long without my cock. I’ll see you soon, Khione North. Feel free to text me.”

Khione tried not to shiver at the creepy promise in his voice. Zenos, the inept shit head, had always been terrible at social etiquette, and while she intrinsically  _ knew _ that he wasn’t intending to threaten her, she couldn’t help but inwardly groan at his terrible phrasing and word choice. Stupid freaking Zenos and his stupid freaking ego.

With a sigh, she pulled her tomeStone back out, resuming her conversation with G’raha.

_ ‘Sorry for not replying, fucking Zenos was being persistent again.’ _

_ ‘Do you need me to come rescue you?’ _

Khione grinned at that, chuckling as she finished her wine.

_ ‘Please. I could do with a pretty face to look at.’ _

Not two minutes later, a pair of warm, bare arms wrapped around her midsection, a chin resting on her shoulder. A cotton hood that smelled of cedar and sandalwood brushed against her cheek, a deep purr vibrating through the chest pressed against her back. She slipped her tomeStone into her bra, promptly forgetting about Zenos and his irritating persistence, and her ongoing thread with G’raha entirely.

“Hello again, Little Bird,” Hoodie Guy hummed, ghosting a kiss on the very tip of her ear. It sent a thrill down her spine, and she couldn’t help the grin that formed on her lips as she turned.

“Hello, stranger~” Gods, she felt powerful and alive in the knowledge that this stranger had — presumably — actively sought her out. “Did you miss me?”

Hoodie Guy nipped at her earlobe with another low purr. “So much that I was going mad, Little Bird. Fair glad am I to see you hale and whole, and returned to my arms.”

Khione giggled, turning to face him. Those sinful lips teased her with a smirk, and though she couldn’t see them, she could feel his eyes roving over her body. She stood to give him a better view.

“See something you like?

His smirk turned positively feral, and the hands that had been resting on her hips inched lower, squeezing gently. “I see many things that I like.”

“Oh? Do tell, do tell, Wonder Boy.”

He leaned down to claim her lips, the kiss hot and hungry. “In good time, Little Bird. All in good time. Come, dance with me.”

Khione didn’t need to be told twice. She followed Hoodie Guy to the same quiet spot on the outer fringes of the dancefloor as always, admiring him shamelessly.

His dark, distressed jeans fit him beautifully, hugging the cut muscles of his legs in  _ just _ the right places, but loose enough in others that left no doubt in Khione’s mind that he could absolutely bust a move at any point. Eyes travelling upwards, she noted — with great satisfaction — the sleeveless red hoodie he’d chosen for the evening, showing off the entirety of his lean, well-muscled arms and the tattoo on his left shoulder. A shiver ran through her as she thought of all the things those arms could do, and it wasn’t because she was cold. 

_ “I took a cheap shot, a clean miss; Burning my defenses by the shaking of her hips; And then she moves in, a quick kiss, breathing down my neck, she had me wrapped around her wrist~” _

__

**A Little While Earlier**

His jeans felt far,  _ far _ too tight within seconds of laying eyes on Khione. It seemed they had both decided to pull out the stops that evening.

“Is that her?” Lyna hummed, leaning back in her stool against the bar counter. G’raha’s ears fluttered and he nodded.

“Aye, that’s Khione.”

“When you said she was short, I didn’t think you meant she was child-sized.”

G’raha grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hyperbole, much?” He scowled at his friend half-heartedly.

“I am only teasing you, Raha. She’s cute. Remind me again why you don’t want her to know who you are? I think the two of you would make a handsome couple, and you've been pining over her for five moons.”

He felt the heat rise in his face, ears flattening.

“I… I just don’t feel like she’d accept me as, well,  _ me _ , y’know?” he mumbled, taking a long sip of his Kholusia Iced Tea.

Lyna smacked her forehead with her palm, groaning. “Raha, have a bit more faith in yourself. You get coffee with her  **every damn day** , and when you’re not around her, you’re texting her.”

As if to prove Lyna’s point, G’raha’s tomeStone buzzed, and he couldn’t help the way his face lit up at seeing a message from Khione.

_ ‘Sorry for not replying, fucking Zenos was being persistent again.’ _

Something hot and dizzying tilted his vision, tinting it with a strange, deep-rooted sort of protectiveness. She’d told him a little bit about her ongoing troubles with shaking off Zenos yae Galvus, but she always got cagey when he tried to press her on it. Whatever was going on there, it was clear she wasn’t ready to share it with him yet.

He took a deep breath, typing out his response with slightly-shaking fingers and a wobbly smirk.

_ ‘Do you need me to come rescue you?’ _

Her response at once soothed his jealous possessiveness, and fanned the heat that flowed through him, turning his feelings for her into sparks of brilliant light.

_ ‘Please. I could do with a pretty face to look at.’ _

__ __ He chuckled and started to type back a message, only to stop when Lyna groaned beside him. 

“Oh, just put your stupid hood up and go over and talk to her already. Text me if you need anything.”

G’raha murmured a word of thanks, pulling on his hood as he wove his way through the crowd, over to where he’d noticed Khione sitting earlier.

Taking a deep breath, he let his inhibitions and insecurities fade away, her text echoing through his head like a mantra.  _ ‘Please. I could do with a pretty face to look at.’ _ He let it ground him, anchor him to the here and now before wrapping his arms around the hyur. Her skin was warm and soft, at odds with the cold leather and metal buckles of her top. He wondered if she’d ever allow him to remove all of that leather with his teeth. Five moons in and she still had that effect on him.

“Hello again, Little Bird.”

The way she grinned and instantly relaxed in his embrace set his heart racing, and the sultriness of her voice sent blood flowing down, down,  _ down _ . It took everything in his power, every ounce of self-control and patience he had, to refrain from pressing her up against the nearest wall so he could touch  _ more _ and taste  _ more _ .

He couldn’t resist nibbling on her ear, her neck juuuust a little, but he forced himself to behave, glad that she couldn’t see the predatory hunger no doubt flashing in his eyes. Gods, how was it that this woman could make him so very weak without even having to raise a finger? What sort of witchcraft was she practicing?

G’raha purred in response to her flirtatious question, his tail swishing back and forth before gently wrapping around her ankle for a moment in a teasing manner. He squeezed her a little tighter, allowing his hands to explore the sharp bones and gentle curve of her lower hips. His expression was pure hunger and amusement.

Yes, he  _ very _ much liked what he saw, and he could think of about a hundred different ways to tell her such if given adequate time and priva— No, Raha, good behaviour. He wasn’t about to push her any further than she was willing to go, no matter how much he wanted more of her. It was his guiding philosophy whenever it came to her, because even though she rarely opened up to him about the troubles of her past, he could tell that she already carried enough pain in her soul. He had no desire to add to that. Kissing her nearly did him in, though.

So curious, this Little Bird, and Gods, he wanted to answer her every question, but the thought of scaring her away, of losing the levin that sparked between them, it caused just enough anxiety in him that his blood cooled a little. He would force himself to wait, to follow her lead.

Khione settled against him as though it was the most natural thing in the world for her, guiding his hands to her hips with a new sort of confidence. He purred like a contented house cat in response, pulling her tight against him so she could feel it vibrating through his chest as he leaned down to lavish attention upon those damned ears of hers. He wasn’t sure why he was so fixated on them except that they seemed particularly sensitive, and the sounds she made whenever he did anything to them were too adorable to resist.

“Did you have a good week, Little Bird?” he hummed, immediately going to nip the top of her ear hard enough to draw a little yelp and a shiver from the hyur.

She closed her eyes for a moment, smirking. “Mhmmm~”

He chuckled, laving his tongue over the spot he’d bitten. “Make any new friends this week? Any competition I should be concerned about? Is that scary blond giving you any further trouble? Perhaps you’ll finally let me teach him a thing or two about boundaries?”

G’raha felt exactly zero shame in asking her because he was having far too much fun. He loved asking her these questions, because she always skirted around a straight answer.

“Weeeelllll,” Khione giggled, grinding on him just a  _ little _ harder. Cruel, wicked thing was teasing him, and he was letting her. “Blondie is always annoying as fuck, but he’s trivial and not worth your time. There is this one guy, though. We have a standing coffee date~”

Oh, how he cursed his shyness in that moment.

“Mmmm is that so?” His tail trailed up one of her legs and he bit and sucked a mark at her shoulder, the action nothing short of possessive. “Tell me more.”

There was no missing the shudder of delight that thrilled down Khione’s spine, and seven hells, he was achingly hard, his control hanging like a fragile thread.

“Jealous, Kitty Cat?” she teased.

“Very.”

“Ask me again nicely~”

This woman would be his death, and he would probably thank her for it.

“The TA I told you about, G’raha. Very shy, and  _ very _ cute…. Not that I’d ever admit it to anyone, so no telling. We've become really close over the past few moons.”

“And give him an unfair advantage? I wouldn’t dream of it,” G’raha chuckled, even as his mind was secretly imploding. ‘A drunk person’s words are a sober person’s thoughts,’ his mother had always told him. He prayed,  _ begged _ the gods for that to be true. “I’d much rather keep you all to myself, Little Bird.”

A laugh, genuine and bright bubbled out of her, catching G’raha off guard with the pure joy of it. Her smile was infectious, and he soon found himself grinning like a moron. 

“Is that so~?” 

The song changed, and G’raha felt like truly showing off for her, his hopes buoyed by her words and the three Kholusian Iced Teas he’d had earlier. He spun her to face him as the intro set the beat, his lips a catlike smirk. “Let me show you how very serious I am.”

_ ‘Ayer conocí un cielo sin sol/ Y un hombre sin suelo/ Un santo en prisión/ Y una canción triste sin dueño~’ _

He took her hands in his, guiding one to his bare shoulder, holding the other out away from their bodies. “Follow my lead.”

Carefully, he led her in the basic steps of some strange form of salsa-swing-tango. Admittedly, he was making it up as he went. Admittedly, he’d also been dancing since he was a boy.

Much to G’raha’s surprise, Khione moved naturally, as though she wasn’t slightly tipsy. His every movement was a call, her every movement an answer, and together they created something wholly beautiful and unique.

It was time to turn things up a notch.

_ ‘Le pido al cielo solo un deseo/ Que en tus ojos yo pueda vivir/ He recorrido ya el mundo entero/ Y una cosa te vengo a decir/ Viajé de Bahrein hasta Beirut/ Fui desde el Norte hasta el polo sur/ No encontré ojos así/ Como los que tienes tú~’ _

He spun her away from him with a flourish, only to pull her back, tight against his chest long enough to steal a searing kiss.

In that moment, only they existed, only they mattered. Their joined hands were like lifelines tying them together in a sea of bodies and strangers, their eyes lighthouse beacons beckoning one another closer. 

G’raha twirled Khione one more time, dipping her low just as the music ended. She stared up at him, grinning and breathless.

“Do you believe that I’m serious now, Little Bird?” G’raha murmured, wrapping his arm around her back once more to pull her close.

“Mmm I may need a little more convincing, Kitty Cat.”

Such a tease, his Little Bird.

He led her off the dancefloor, past Zenos yae Galvus, past the table where her friends now sat, past the mass of dancers and drinkers that filled the club, stopping just long enough to let her grab her things from the lockers — his sweatshirt included — before leading her outside into the cool nighttime air. It felt like a balm on his heated skin.

They walked without speaking until they came to Lakeland Park, where G’raha promptly parked himself on a bench beneath the glowing purple trees and pulled Khione down onto his lap the moment he found a suitably solitary area.

Khione looped her arms around his neck, watching him with silver eyes that seemed to glow in the pale lamplight. “You know, if anyone saw us, they’d probably think we were up to no good~” she crooned, grinding on him. “Considering how  _ excited _ you are right now, I wouldn’t blame them.” Her smirk was wicked and sharp, and it hit him that she was completely sober.

How long had she been sober? That also begged the question: how high was her alcohol tolerance?

“What can I say, Little Bird? You bring out the beast in me,” G’raha purred, leaning down to leave a trail of hot kisses along her jaw, her collarbone, lower, to the upper curve of those tauntingly full breasts. He bit and sucked a mark on each one, his tail slowly running up and down her spine. She arched her back, pressing her front into him, exactly as he intended. Gods, he really shouldn’t be doing this, not like this, not without her knowing who he actually was and what he actually felt for her, but the taste of her was pure intoxication to him, his mind clouded by want for  _ her _ . He really needed to stop.

“My roommates won’t be home for another few hours,” Khione breathed, trying to stifle a little moaning gasp. “We could take this somewhere a little more private.”

Gods, he wanted nothing more than to take her up on it.

Khione reached between them, palming his very hard, very prominent bulge shamelessly, and honestly, G’raha could have come then and there, staring into those transfixing eyes…. It was the jolt he needed to bring himself back to a semblance of sense.

“No,” he growled, pushing her off him far too forcefully for his own liking. “I— you’d best go home, Little Bird.”

The look on her face made him want to crumple and die, and he knew he’d just punched a hole in whatever confidence she’d been building throughout the evening. No, not just a hole; he’d  _ decimated _ it, judging by the way she stared at him, eyes wide as saucers, full of hurt and fear and something sharp that quickly iced over her entire soul.

She stood with a dancer’s grace, pulling herself to full height and tossing his folded sweatshirt at him. The word that followed was cold and angry.

“Goodnight.”

And then she left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do hope you all enjoyed that. You know the drill! Leave a review or drop me a message! I love hearing from y'all:)
> 
> -Blue
> 
> Song is "Ojos Así" by Shakira.
> 
> If you enjoyed this and want to meet the awesome writers, readers, and artists who helped inspire it, this is the Discord server for you! https://discord.gg/DEpwSd


	6. Sinead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feels incoming! Enjoy~

**A Little While Later**

The first person she texted was Sollielle.

_ ‘I’m home. Alone. Have fun and be safe.’ _

__ The second person she texted was her mother (and, by extension, her father).

_ ‘Love you. Miss you. Goodnight.’ _

__ The third person she texted was G’raha.

_ ‘You still awake?’ _

__ __ She checked the clock while she waited for an answer. It wasn’t even midnight. He should be up. He was usually awake at this point.

Her tomeStone buzzed. A dick pic from Zenos. Part of her wished it was from G’raha instead. Actually, most of her wished that.

Hoodie Guy had been a nice distraction these past moons, a vague figure to daydream about and turn into some mysterious faerie tale being; but G’raha…. G’raha was real, tangible, more than just a faceless, nameless pair of arms and sinful lips, though he had those too.

She didn’t understand why he’d reacted like that. Why didn’t he tell her the truth?

Why had she texted him anyways?

_ “No. You’d best go home, Little Bird.” _

The words echoed in her head over and over. Once, it might have dissolved her to tears. 

Now she felt only anger. Sadness. Loneliness. And the distinct feeling of being  _ broken _ . 

How silly she was, hanging the flickering embers of hope on a man who refused to even show his face or give his name. Sure, she had a strong guess as to who he was, but the confirmation would have been nice.

Yet, she found herself thinking that she didn’t really care if he ever told her whether or not he was actually “Hoodie Guy,” because honestly, she just wanted  _ him _ .

She hadn’t felt this way since… Since Hien. It was enough to make her whirl on the punching bag near the window, landing a vicious kick-punch combo.

Momentarily calmed, Khione shed the tarnished armour of her party clothes for a new sort of armour, the kind worn for comfort while fighting the demons screaming in the depths of one’s soul. She removed her war paint and washed her face and shoulders of the stinging brands of Hoodie Guy’s kisses.

Her tomeStone buzzed again, this time with G’raha’s unique vibration pattern. Hmph. Took him long enough.

_ ‘Ummmm…yes? Why? What’s up?’ _

__ __ She sent her address by way of response. She prayed he understood.

Thirty minutes later, someone knocked softly on the front door of the flat, as though unsure of whether or not they were meant to be knocking on that particular door.

The tension Khione hadn’t realised she’d been holding in her shoulders dissipated when she saw G’raha fidgeting on the other side of the peephole.

She even smiled softly as she opened the door, and for a moment, the anger and hurt inside her calmed. It was nice to  _ see _ his friendly face. It was nice to see  _ G'raha's _ friendly face that so often haunted her dreams, that teased her pleasure from her in the sacred space of her bedroom, that made her heart skip multiple beats. If only he knew what the thought of his face alone did to her. If only he knew that she’d been imagining it behind the shadows of a hood for the past few moons.

“Come in,” she said, standing aside to allow him ingress. “Please.”

For a moment, they stood in silence in the entrance area of the spacious flat. G’raha looked around, his ears flicking about, no doubt picking up the near-silent sounds of the building’s other residents. His tail swished and swayed with a curious irregularity, and he reached up to rub his left arm with his right hand. 

Khione smirked a little at his messy braid — he’d probably done it in a rush if all the little flyaways were any indication — and allowed herself to stare, as was their usual tradition. For all the education and intelligence between the two of them, giving voice to whatever it was that lay between them seemed impossible, and so instead they communicated through long stares and the ghosts of touches, neither one willing to make the first move.

“Would you like a tour?” she finally murmured, internally cursing how quiet and shaky her voice was.

G’raha snapped back to reality, looking at the hyur with a hint of surprise. His cheeks flushed a soft pink, ears wiggling. “I… If you want.”

She huffed a small chuckle, gesturing towards the interior of the flat with her head. “I’ll at least show you the kitchen and my room. You have to get approval from the others before I can show you anything else.”

The kitchen was large and bright, with a black-and-white tile floor and three pale aqua walls. The fourth was a floor-to-ceiling window looking out over the northern end of Lakeland Park. At this time of night, the glowing leaves of the trees cast pale purple light into the kitchen, giving it an ethereal feeling.

“I promise that it’s not usually this clean,” Khione hummed, grabbing a filtered pitcher of water from the fridge. “Sol’s dad came to visit last weekend, and we’ve all been busy with school stuff since then, so no one’s been doing much cooking.” 

She motioned for him to follow across the hall to her room. “You’ll have to excuse the mess.”

That was an understatement, and it wasn’t until G’raha stepped into the bedroom that Khione realised just  _ how _ bad her room had gotten during the course of studying for upcoming exams.

Much like the kitchen, one of her walls was taken up entirely by a window, currently hidden by ice-blue curtains. The remaining walls were painted white, and were hung with various framed photographs, some posters, and a large bulletin board over the queen-sized bed. A plush armchair sat in the corner next to the window, upholstered with midnight blue velvet. The bed was pushed up along the wall opposite the bathroom, jutting out into the room.

These were all things G’raha would’ve seen were it not for the fact that books, papers, shoes, and clothing were strewn hither, thither, and yon.

With a strange little yelp-groan, Khione scrambled to clear things from the bed and the armchair, piling most of it on the desk next to the chair, or in her closet at the back of the bathroom.

“I am  _ so _ sorry,” she sighed, facepalming. “It’s just been one hell of a—”

“Khione, it’s fine,” G’raha interrupted once he’d finished taking the room in. The miqo’te maintained a more-than respectable distance from her.

“Oh…. Right, um, feel free to make yourself comfy. I can make you tea, or we have soda, or just water, and we have plenty of food if you—”

“What’s wrong?”

Khione blinked at him for a moment, surprised by his blunt tone. She supposed she was behaving oddly to him in her efforts to  _ not _ blurt out the million questions sprinting through her mind.

“W-what? Nothing’s wrong!” The way her voice wavered and went up half an octave said otherwise, and Khione cursed her traitorous mind for allowing such a slip up.

G’raha just gave her A Look, at once concerned yet commanding.

She stared at him, at his dark, torn jeans; his messy carmine hair; the way his ears twitched and flickered nervously… his bare arms, the tattoos on his left shoulder and on both sides of his neck. Her lower lip trembled, and she took a step, then two, then three towards him before crumpling against his chest, her arms winding around his midsection.

His arms felt like home as he hugged her close, gently stroking her hair and her back. She breathed in his cedar and sandalwood scent, and listened to his racing heartbeat.

“I don’t want to be alone,” she mumbled, turning her face so her ear rested on his chest. “And I wanted to see you.” She had expected those words to taste like ash in her mouth — admitting such weakness, such trust; she didn’t like giving him that much power over her, but this was not the time for her stupid pride, and more than that, she  _ trusted _ him almost inherently.

G’raha  _ purred _ in response, stepping back just to look at Khione, kindness and concern and something that Khione didn’t recognise shining in his scarlet eyes. His ears, his tail, his eyes, his whole body was relaxed and focused entirely on her.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He gave her an encouraging smile, squeezing her shoulder a little.

Khione thought for a moment, then shook her head, frowning. “I just… Raha, do you have feelings for me?” Her heart was thundering, and she had no time or chance to regret the question because the shitty twist her evening had taken had granted her clarity, and she  _ needed _ to know.

G’raha didn’t even hesitate, meeting her gaze with an intensity that nearly knocked her off her feet.

“Yes, oh Twelve, yes. Gods, I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while but I didn’t want to scare you away because we’ve only known each other for five months, but it feels like I’ve known you my entire life and it just feels right to be with you and please don’t be scared by the intensity of my feelings because that is the last thing that I want and oh shite I’m rambling.”

Khione didn’t know whether to be terrified or elated or both. She didn’t care, either.

“I’m not…. I’m not ready to commit to anything official or anything like that… but I — ugh I sound like a middle schooler and now I feel all dorky — I like you too. A lot. But I just can’t… There’s still a lot of stuff I’m working through. Can we just take things slowly?”

To her relief, G’raha pulled her close, still purring as he buried his face in the top of her head.

“Fair glad am I to hear you say that, Khione,” he whispered, smiling. “However long you need, I will wait, and I’ll be here to support you whenever —  _ whenever _ — you need. Even if nothing ever comes of this, I will support you and do what I can to ease your burdens. And if you decide you do want something, I am  _ happy _ to go as slowly as you want. The only thing that matters to me is that you’re comfortable and happy.”

Khione felt like her chest might burst open, even as a wave of tiredness hit her.

“Right now, tonight…. G’raha, would you spend the night? I was going to watch a documentary on the War of the Magi, and I’d love the company.” She shifted to stand back, reaching down to twine her fingers with his. Gods, it felt so natural, so familiar.

G’raha grinned at her. “Only on the condition that you call me ‘Raha’ from now on.”

Khione nodded and dragged him over to the bed, grabbing her computer and a fluffy pale blue blanket on the way.

G’raha — Raha — stood beside the bed, blinking. It warmed Khione’s cold, icy heart.

“You can get comfy, silly.”

She didn’t have to tell him twice, it seemed, because he immediately kicked off his Zans and hopped onto the pile of soft, luxurious, dark blue blankets and pillows upon which Khione slept.

“I wish I’d known I’d be spending the night,” he chuckled, draping the pale blue throw blanket around his shoulders. He held up an arm for her to snuggle under. 

Khione claimed her spot with a wobbly smile, giggling a little when his tail curled around her hips. For the moment, her inner demons were quiet.

Together, in their own little bubble beneath synthetic blue fleece, they stayed up watching funny animal videos — one of Khione’s guilty pleasures — and listening to music on BardTube, oblivious to the world around them…. Until one very aggressive elezen female burst through the doorway. Khione had exactly 0.00000000001 seconds to prepare before the flying ball of love and friendship and alcohol that was Sollielle tackled her and G’raha.

“KIKI!” Sollielle wailed, burying her face in Khione’s boobs. “WHY DID ZALA SAY THAT YOU HAD COMPANY?”

Khione groaned, looking up at G’raha with a long-suffering grimace.

“Because, Sollielle, I do have compa—”

“BUT YOU SAID HOODIE GUY REJECTED YOU AND YOU WERE HOME ALONE AND I’VE BEEN SO WORRIED ABOUT YOU, KIKI! I THOUGHT YOU MIGHT HAVE INVITED ZENOS OVER AGAIN!”

Khione almost cried with relief when Aymeric finally pried Sollielle off of her.

“Go get some coffee and we’ll meet you all in the kitchen, hm?” Khione sighed, pausing a video she’d just pulled from an email. She didn’t notice G’raha peeking over her shoulder at the link titled ‘Griffin University Dancer Collapses During Spring Recital LOL.’

Khione rested her head on G’raha’s shoulder for a moment, then set her computer aside, stole the throw blanket, and trudged out of the room wearing it like a freaking cape. All hail the Queen, right?

Khione felt like she was walking into an interrogation. If only Raha knew what he was in for.

All five of the other occupants of the flat sat around the table. All five turned to stare at Khione and G’raha with laser-like focus.

“I told you~” S’zala giggled, poking Sollielle’s cheek with the end of her fluffy tail. “Khio-Khio has a guuuueeeessstttt~”

Gods, she hated when her roommates were drunk.

“Right, let’s get this over with,” she mumbled, pulling G’raha over to her usual seat. She perched herself on his leg and fixed her friends with a cold stare and a quirked eyebrow. “Who wants to go first?”

“Have y’all fucked yet?” Zaerise snorted, grinning wickedly.

“No.”

“What about kissed?” S’zala chirped.

“No.”

“THEY’VE DEFINITELY BEEN CUDDLING ON KIKI’S BED!” Sollielle shrieked. Aymeric looked like he might wet himself from trying to contain his laughter.

“How long has this been going on, and why didn’t you tell us you had a gentleman guest?” the male elezen asked with a gentle smile. Gods bless Aymeric for being sane…. And very good at holding his alcohol.

“Since earlier tonight, and because I forgot.”

Her short, curt answers seemed to placate her friends for the time being, but Khione knew that G’raha’s gauntlet had only just begun.

_ Especially after everything that happened… _ she mused. No, her friends were not going to let him off easily.

“Anyone have any more questions?” Khione hummed, poking Sol’s ear with a scowl. “No? Good. I’m going to bed.”

She slid off of G’raha’s lap and trudged back to her room, leaving G’raha to the sharks. They’d go easy on him tonight, but tomorrow… Well, she certainly intended to sleep in a little.

Climbing into bed, Khione’s mind was equal parts exhausted and racing as the night’s strange roller coaster of emotions caught up to her.

She still wasn’t sure whether she should be angry, or relieved; happy or sad; clear or confused. She didn’t know if she was making the right choice, and it scared her. She’d spent too damn long clawing her way out of that dark, horrible place, and while her instincts screamed at her to trust Raha in a way they’d never done with Hien, those old, lingering doubts stuck in her mind as sure as the comforting cedar-and-sandalwood scent and those damnably  _ hot _ tattoos on that damnably gorgeous arm (granted, both of his arms were damnably gorgeous) and his damnably gorgeous neck. 

G’raha Tia was Hoodie Guy…. And Hoodie Guy was G’raha Tia, and he  _ liked  _ her and he was willing to wait for her, and the way he smiled at her like she was the sun and moon and stars made her dizzy with glee, but he’d pushed her away earlier and she couldn’t understand why any better than she could understand why, in the moons they’d been hurtling towards this night, he hadn’t told her except surely he had a good reason…. Right?

Fuck  _ should _ . There was no right or wrong in this situation, not when there were too many variables that could change the meaning of every little word and gesture, and even if he had lied, it didn’t seem like he had any malicious intent to it because he wasn’t Hien, he wasn’t Charibert, he wasn’t any of the faceless, nameless men who had used her and crushed her beneath their heels. No, Raha was  _ real _ and he was  _ warm _ and he genuinely cared, and she swore to Halone that if her friends scared him away, she would rain down the wrath of all seven hells upon them.

But first, she needed sleep, lulled to sleep by the symphonic metal music Zae was listening to in the kitchen, and Raha’s welcoming scent.

_ ‘Oh Sinead, for the first time, love is gonna turn around~. I’m tellin’ you, you will like it, I know~’ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank y'all for reading! Don't forget to leave a review or drop me a message!
> 
> Song is "Sinead" by Within Temptation.
> 
> Also! If you're like me and love FFXIV fanart and fanfiction, and/or if you create fanart or fanfiction for FFXIV, then this Discord group is for you! All are welcome in Book Club! https://discord.gg/vegv7M


	7. Hunger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING: Eating disorders, suicide attempts, cheating boyfriends, self-destructive tendencies. Please use caution!

**Meanwhile…**

G’raha’s head was absolutely spinning.

Where to even begin?

He’d thought for sure he was a dead man walking when she’d texted him.

Instead, he felt like a whole new man, the entire future laid out before him like a glittering road.

_ “I like you too.” _

His heart had been fit to burst, and the way she had relaxed and smiled at him, invited him into her bed for a closeness more intimate than any form of sex, it had all threatened to undo him altogether.

_ His _ Khione, with her inky blue hair that faded into pale morning sky; and eyes like stars that saw everything and held all the hurts and hopes of her world; and her tiny, powerful frame that was capable of holding him like a vice. Did she have any idea how truly precious she was to him?

Did her friends have any idea? Judging by the way they were staring — more like glaring — at him, the answer was ‘no.’

“So…uh… Did you all enjoy your evening?” he managed, rubbing at his arms. His ears flickered nervously, especially when he caught a glimpse of Zaerise and Estinien. They were Khione’s sparring partners and could no doubt snap him in half like a twig. S’zala  _ sniffed _ him, her tail swishing back and forth. 

Sollielle and Aymeric were perhaps the most terrifying.

Truly, it was incredible how much fear the couple could inspire in him, knowing that his fate rested primarily in their hands.

“You. Tomorrow morning. Tea or coffee?” Sollielle grunted, leaning heavily against Aymeric as she came down from the mania of intoxication.

“Uhhhhh…… Earl Gold tea?”

“Perfect. We’ll see you then.”

The elezen woman’s smile was nothing short of bone-chilling.

“I think she means you’re dismissed, G’raha~” S’zala trilled, wiggling her fingers at him before going back to playing with Estinien’s hair.

Right. Message received.

He mumbled his ‘goodnights’ and slunk out of the kitchen with his tail literally between his legs. He didn’t relax until he’d reached the cool, blue sanctuary of Khione’s room

She was already fast asleep by the time he slipped into the bed, but startled awake at the brush of cool air and a warm tail against the bits of skin exposed by her pyjamas.

“Huh? Wha’?” she mumbled, frowning at him blearily. “Why’re’y still wearing y’r jeans?”

G’raha’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, and he chuckled a little. “I didn’t want you to think me too forward or inappropriate.”

“Th’s cute, but jeans’re no fun t’sleep next’ta.”

She passed back out almost immediately, leaving G’raha to simply observe and memorise the sounds of her gentle breathing. He quickly removed his jeans, thankful that he’d chosen a decent pair of undershorts to wear and not one of the embarrassing pairs with goofy innuendos on them that his mother enjoyed sending him as a joke. His deft, practiced hands made quick work of unpinning and unbraiding his hair, and he couldn’t help but admire the way his brilliant red locks mingled with Khione’s dark hair splayed out upon the pillows.

He hugged her close, burying his face in the back of her neck, truly happy and content.

And yet he had so many questions.

**The Next Morning, 7:30 AM**

Morning came too soon for G’raha’s liking, especially since he was rudely awoken by a beam of bright sunlight streaming through a crack in the curtains. He could hear and smell people in the kitchen, chattering and making breakfast. Did everyone in this damn flat wake up early?

Khione was still sound asleep, curled into a little ball against his chest. It pained G’raha to leave her, but he didn’t wish to find out the consequences of  _ not _ meeting with Khione’s friends, and so he left her with a small kiss to her hairline before pulling his jeans on and slinking into the kitchen like a guilty house cat.

“Goooooooood morning, lover boy!” S’zala called, waving at him from the stove. She and Zaerise seemed to be cooking Ishgardian Toast, while Estinien removed a large plate of bacon from the microwave.

“Uh good morning,” G’raha chuckled, looking to Sollielle for a clue as to his next course of action. She nodded at the chair across the table from her and Aymeric.

“Good morning, G’raha. I trust you slept well?”

“Um, yes, quite.”

“Good. Drink up.”

She slid an empty teacup and a steaming kettle of Earl Gold tea toward him, just as the other three sat down.

“Tell me, G’raha: What do you know of Khione’s past?”

The elezen female tilted her head to the side just slightly, a curious expression on her face.

G’raha’s ears fluttered while he thought.

“I know the basics. Only child, not so great choices in previous romantic and sexual partners, that sort of thing… Why?”

Sollielle sighed. “Because the five of us need to be sure you know what you’re getting yourself into before we give you our blessing. Khione isn’t for the faint of heart.”

As if on cue, the others levelled him with unreadable expressions, sizing him up.

G’raha simply nodded, a bittersweet yet determined smile on his lips. “I want to know everything. Every scar that marks her heart, every dark spot that paints her soul; I want to know it all. I want to be able to support her with my everything.”

This seemed to give them all pause, surprise clearly scrawled in (metaphorical) neon letters across their faces.

Estinien recovered first with an amused ‘hmph’ and a slight jerk of his head. “This one’s got the right idea already…. For now.”

Sollielle inhaled deeply, the tall, pale column of her body relaxing as she exhaled. Hers was an expression of determination and hawklike observation, watching and analysing G’raha’s every move to look for any sign of weakness. G’raha would not give her even an ilm of rope with which she might (again, metaphorically) hang him. “Very well, then.”

The atmosphere of the room changed, charged with levin that buzzed through G’raha’s soul as he met Sollielle’s gaze, and even the music blaring from the wireless speaker by the stove seemed to fade into white noise.

_ ‘At seventeen I started to starve myself, and I thought that love was just a kind of emptiness. And at least I understood then the hunger I felt, and I didn’t have to call it loneliness. We all have a hunger~’ _

__ __

“Everything I’m about to tell you,” Sollielle began, setting down her teacup, “stays between us. You may discuss any questions you have with the five of us, or with Kiki herself, but if you  _ ever _ try to weaponise it against Khione, or  _ ever _ tell anyone outside of our group, I will not hesitate to destroy you.”

G’raha shivered at the ice in the elezen’s tone, and it struck him that it was the first time he’d ever seen her be anything other than kind and polite — the night previous notwithstanding. It made his hair stand up straight.

“You have my word,” he murmured, giving Sollielle another earnest, bittersweet smile.

Sollielle sighed, relaxing slightly. Even though her face and body were turned toward G’raha, her eyes were far away, searching into the past.

“I swear, Khione was  _ born _ anxious. Her parents were well into their careers when she was born, and even though I know for a fact that they love her dearly and would do anything and everything necessary  _ now _ to help her thrive and succeed, they weren’t always so good at the whole parenting thing. They expected perfection in everything from her starting at a very early age. She was already a competitive, anxious, perfectionist mess when I met her on the first day of kindergarten.” The elezen chuckled, but there was no joy to the sound. “It wasn’t just academics, either. Kiki constantly pushed herself to be the very best dancer, the very best artist, the very best singer. I mean, she succeeded at it all, but only because she was always pushing herself much farther than any kid or teenager should.”

G’raha’s ears flattened on his head, his tail drooping, as he watched Sollielle stare down into her lukewarm cup of tea and wipe her cheek. “Sorry…. This…. This is just where the story really starts, and it’s hard not to get a little emotional when you know that the worst is still yet to come.” She took a deep breath and looked back up at him, a wobbly, sad smirk on her face. 

“Khi’s never been so much as  _ chubby _ in her entire life, but she was an early bloomer, and puberty hit her  **hard** . Like with everything else, she soldiered through the teasing from the boys and the snide remarks from the girls, but even her chipper demeanour broke after years of comments from classmates about how something as out of her control as her natural development meant she was a slut, and dance instructors about how her curves meant she’d probably never be a prima ballerina. She started starving herself when we were seventeen. She hid it well, and I didn’t even catch on until we were  _ twenty _ . She started dating Hien when she was eighteen.”

Sol’s smile, still bitter, acquired a nostalgic edge to it. “He was a junior at Revenant’s Toll University when we were freshmen, and he had this easy smile that just made you absolutely melt. Hell, even Aymeric and Estinien approved of him, and they've always been the best litmus test when it comes to Kiki’s potential suitors. For a time, we were all happy. S’zala and Zaerise had just joined our little group when they started sleeping with Estinien. Aymeric and I had been dating a little over a year, and finally it seemed like Khi had found someone who was genuinely worth her time…. If only we’d all been paying better attention. At that point, she’d been suffering with her eating disorder for a full year, and it would be another two before I realised it. But, as far as the rest of us were concerned, things were wonderful. We all excelled in our classes, we went out to bars and clubs on the weekends and got up to all sorts of youthful shenanigans, and the seven of us were a family. The guys were doing ROTC, I was part of the newspaper staff with Zae, S’zala walked onto the cheerleading team, Khi danced her heart out as part of the university’s ballet troupe. We were happy, we thought.”

Sollielle paused again, and G’raha could see her fighting tears. He looked away to give her a moment to collect herself, even as he could feel his own heart filling with dread. Khione had been a dancer…. Why had she given it up? He was sure Sollielle was going to tell him, but his mind still raced with questions.

“In the middle of her spring recital at the end of our sophomore year, Khione collapsed on stage. She was rushed to the hospital. The doctors couldn’t believe that none of us had noticed her getting thinner and thinner, the way she’d become squirrelly about food. We’d chalked it up to her anxiety and OCD. It never occurred to us that something was wrong. Hien really stepped up to the plate after that. He was a model boyfriend, always making sure that Kiki was taking care of herself, driving her to her daily therapy sessions, bending over backwards to pull her out of it whenever she started relapsing. He was the one who got her back into dancing, showing up at every recital and just genuinely being a great guy. All of us thought that the two of them were going to end up getting married. Khione got better, we thought. She certainly wasn’t starving herself anymore, so we believed the danger had passed. We didn’t think there was anything wrong with how much time she spent exercising. We were so. fucking. wrong.”

The elezen pinched the bridge of her nose, and this time, she didn’t even try to fight the tears. G’raha could feel the sadness pricking at his own eyes, the heartbreak infectious. Despite his desire to hold Khione tight and never let her go, he stayed planted in his seat. There was yet more to this story, and he’d meant it when he’d said that he wanted to know it  _ all _ .

“When all of us graduated, we were all accepted into the Master’s of Science in history programme at Griffin University in Rhalgar’s Reach. Kiki was the most excited, I think, because it was the farthest she’d ever been from her parents’ influence…. She only finished the first semester. Things had been a little rocky with Hien because they were both adjusting to Khi’s new schedule and the new city — he had turned his back on a really awesome post-graduate internship just to move to Ala Mhigo with us — but she was sure they’d pull through. He started cancelling on her more and more, but she was so focused on school that she didn’t mind. We should’ve pointed out more of the warning signs, because we  _ knew _ in our guts that Hien was up to  _ something _ , and, well, sure enough, one night, after another cancellation, Zae, Zala, and I decided to take Kiki out for girls’ night to get her mind off of Hien. Gods, that was the  _ worst _ possible idea. Hien wasn’t sick with food poisoning that night like he’d told her. We saw him finger-fucking some chick in the middle of the dance floor. Kiki saw and she tried to break up with him that night, but for whatever reason, she stayed with him and accepted his apology, but I could see that something inside her was cracking.”

Sollielle took a steadying breath, eyes closed for a moment.

“She did her best to hide how much Hien’s actions had hurt her. She was a model girlfriend and a model student, and she was also exercising for like, three hours a day to boot — running, kickboxing, barre, you name it. Then she caught Hien cheating on her again, this time with her  _ understudy _ in the ballet company. She started partying more on the weekends and binge drinking, and that’s when she started hooking up with Zenos. We tried to get through to her, but I think the pressures put on her by everyone in her life were just too much. She collapsed again the weekend before first semester finals during another ballet recital. This time, the doctors called it ‘exorexia,’ but it was just the same damn demon in a new outfit. She’d been burning off more calories than she consumed, not getting enough sleep, partying too much, and dealing with a lot of added stress. They said that if she’d had even half a drink more that day, she would’ve died of alcohol poisoning. Her parents sent her to rehab the next morning.”

Sol was quiet for a minute or two, staring out the window. G’raha clenched his fists, fighting the tears that stung his eyes.

“The day after she started rehab, Hien texted her and broke up with her, saying that he’d found someone else and had been seeing them behind her back for a while. She tried to kill herself — those tattoos she has on the inside of her left arm? Yeah… It was a scary time. It wasn't that Hien was her entire world — I think we all know Kiki well enough to know that she would never, even in her darkest moments, try something so.... She wouldn't do that just because of a stupid guy, even if she loved that stupid guy at the time. She just.... The stress, the anxiety, the depression, the feelings of failure and loss and confusion just destroyed her. The university let her do her exams remotely, along with the entire second semester and her dissertation, but it was like watching a ghost try to remember how to be alive. I think that’s why she kept Zenos around — he was wild and unpredictable enough to keep her alert, to make her feel alive again. It was a dark time for all of us, and I don’t think I’d have been able to stay sane if I hadn’t had Aymeric. I know that Zala and Zae feel the same about Estinien.” The others nodded in agreement, their faces all pale and haunted. 

“The six of us spent an entire year feeling terrified every time the phone rang because we were scared that it was going to be Khi’s parents, telling us that something had happened…. But that call never came, praise Halone, and a year and a day after her suicide attempt, Khione was discharged into outpatient care. She and I moved back to Revenant’s Toll while Aymeric and Estinien were doing a year of military service, where we worked as research assistants for a year and got our PhD applications and proposals together. S’zala and Zae joined us that January. Even though Kiki was with us again in a physical sense, her spark was  _ gone _ . She used to be very kind and open, if a little eccentric, but she had a joy for art and music and dancing and life that made you want to grin until your face hurt. Sure, she was anxious and  _ constantly _ under pressure, but she handled it with this ethereal sort of grace…. Somewhere in the battle against her inner demons, something inside her just…broke. I think her…arrangement...with Zenos is the best illustration; she could go moons without giving in and texting him, but all it would take was one shitty day, and he’d show up at our flat to drag her back down into the abyss, like some sort of reminder of the darker parts of her personality. But G’raha,” Sollielle sighed, looking up to give him an encouraging smile, “ever since she met you, ever since you’ve come into her life, I’ve seen little hints of the old Khione. She smiles more, she’s not quite as grumpy, and she’s even started singing again — though only in the shower. Hell, she finally told Zenos to fuck off once and for all. You’ve done more for her in five moons than a full year of intensive therapy.”

G’raha cocked his head a little, questioning her words. “I really doubt I’ve had that much of an influe—”

“Between the confidence boost you’ve given her at The Crystarium — and yes, we know who you are, ‘Hoodie Guy,’ and rest assured, in a moment, we will be asking you about that stunt you pulled last night because you very nearly threw her back into a downward spiral with that shit — and the joy you’ve brought into her life simply by being there and being her friend, you’ve done a lot to help her. Have more faith in yourself. It’s obvious that you care for her and that she cares for you, and I think that great things can come of  _ whatever it is _ that exists between the two of you,” S’zala hummed, narrowing her eyes at him. “But also, really, what the fuck?”

His ears flattened against his head, and he hunched his shoulders, trying to make himself as small as possible. “I… Well, I….” He sighed. There was no point in dancing around it. “I was scared. At first, I was scared because she was so… stunning, really; and then I was scared because I had these strong, sudden feelings that threatened to rip my heart out of my chest for a woman I’d only just met. Sure, I’ve had partners before. Romance isn’t an entirely new concept to me…. But from the very start, she's been  _ different _ . Even before the first time I spoke to her, when I had only simply laid eyes on her, something in my  _ soul _ screamed to be beside Khione, to be a part of her life, and it absolutely terrified me.”

He looked askance, thinking for a moment. “I kept it up even though she and I were getting closer and closer because I was so worried that I’d scare her away if she knew that the guy at The Crystarium and the guy who buys her coffee every morning and goes on rambling adventures through Norvrandt City with her were one and the same. I didn’t want her to think I was, I don’t know, stalking her. I didn’t think much about what might happen when she found out.”

Aymeric patted him on the shoulder sympathetically. “I think what the ladies actually mean is why did you reject her last night, only to come the moment she called, so to speak? However, as a man who has gone through this particular gauntlet before, I must give you a commendation for being so honest about your overall feelings, and for showing much more care than certain other male individuals in Khione’s life.”

That didn’t make G’raha feel any better, but this wasn’t supposed to be a comfortable conversation anyways.

“Honestly?” he groaned, scrubbing at his face with his hands. “I hoped that if I ever got, er,  _ intimate _ with Khione, it’d be as me rather than as the guy with the hoodie. I also didn’t want my first time with her to be in an abandoned corner of a public park.  _ If _ she ever grants me the honour of being intimate with her, I want to be able to give her my full and undivided attention in a location that’s safe and comfortable and of her choice. Furthermore, I didn’t want it to be while she was under the influence of any intoxicants.”

The group considered his words, and G’raha could swear that they were somehow communicating telepathically. 

Sollielle finally looked over at the flustered, panicking miqo’te with a gentle smile. “You swear that you will take care of her? Good days and bad?”

“Oh, Gods, yes.”

The female elezen quirked an eyebrow at him, smirking. “I suppose I’ll allow it, then.”

G’raha began to let out a giant sigh of relief, only to be stopped by Zaerise’s surprisingly strong grip on his wrist. 

“On one condition, though,” the au ra huffed, face deadpan. “You have to come clean to her. Today.”

“But—”

“Ah ah ah~ You gave us your word that you’d do anything for her. Khio-Khio deserves the truth.”

He groaned, but nodded. “You’re correct. Doesn’t mean I’m much looking forward to it.”

“Honestly, kid, you’ve already gotten past the hard part,” Estinien chuckled. “Now I’d get out of here before the ladies can think of any more reason to ban you from this flat for the rest of eternity.”

G’raha didn’t have to be told twice, and he was slipping back into Khione’s bed before he had a chance to second guess himself.

Gently, he pulled her into his embrace, breathing in her scent, her presence.

Khione mumbled, turning over. She cracked a single eye open to look up at him while a lazy, sleepy smile wobbled across her face. “Mmmmmm whatimeizz’t?” she mumbled, nuzzling his chest.

G’raha felt a rush of pure  _ love _ — because yes, even after just five moons of knowing her, he was quite certain that what he felt was brilliant, vibrant love — flooding his veins, and he answered her smile with his own. “It’s still early, Little Bird, but there’s something I wish to speak with you about.”

Gods, it was strange to call her that in the light of morning, outside the context of The Crystarium, but perhaps it might help ease her into the conversation.

“Can it wait?~”

His smile grew wider, fonder. “I’m afraid not. I need you to open your eyes and look at me, Little Bird.”

Still, she remained drowsy and comfortable, and it pained G’raha a little to have to wake her for the sake of his own selfish feelings, but it was now or never.

“Little Bird, please wake up.”

The third time was the charm.

Silver eyes shot open, and Khione sat up, rubbing the sleep from them before looking down at G’raha with an unreadable expression.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

He could hear in her voice the way she was bracing herself for a rejection, for some sort of hurt, and it physically  _ pained _ him as he watched her scramble out of the bed to stand a few feet away, watching him with that guarded expression she’d worn the night previous in the park.

All he could do was give her an encouraging smile and a shake of his head. “Nothing is wrong, Khione. At least, I hope not. Just…Realise that I’ve never lied to you with the intention of hurting you. I’ve only lied because I was scared and I didn’t know how to handle my feelings and I wasn’t sure you felt the same way and—”

“G’raha Tia, what have you lied to me about?”

The blunt ice in her voice snapped him to attention. Right, it was perhaps best to just get to the point.

“You know your ‘Hoodie Guy’ that you’ve kind of had a thing with?” She nodded, cocking an eyebrow. “Right, well…. That’s me. I’m your Hoodie Guy. I’ve been him this entire time. I recognised you immediately the first day of classes when you were wearing my sweatshirt and I should’ve said something, but I was positively terrified by how strongly I felt after just that one slightly-intoxicated night, and my feelings have only continued to grow since then and Sollielle told me everything and I can’t keep  _ keeping _ this from you so yeah. I’m Hoodie Guy from The Crystarium, and I love you.”

Khione said nothing, and G’raha felt his entire being deflate. Perhaps Sollielle had been wro—

“I know.”

His head shot up and he looked at her with eyes wide as saucers. “Wait…What?”

“I know. I've had a feeling for at least two moons, but I figured it out last night, and then I heard you all just now in the kitchen. I always make it a point to eavesdrop when I know Sol and the others are telling my big tragic backstory.”

He just stared at her for a very long moment. How had he not noticed her listening?

“You mean to tell me that you’ve known this entire time and you didn’t say anything?”

“Well, just since last night, but yeah. I figured you had a reason for not telling me, and I wanted to respect it.”

“So you mean all those times we’ve…?”

“Yep. It was fun dragging you lingerie shopping with me, and exploring that creepy sex store.”

“And that time we…?”

“Uh huh. Watching you squirm while trying Ishgardian escargot was an absolute highlight of my year.”

“And it didn’t bother you?”

“Nope.”

“How’d you figure it out?”

“Your tattoo. The one on your shoulder, I mean. Well, that, and your scent and your voice, but also your lips. You have a very distinctive mouth.”

G’raha stared at her, absolutely dumbfounded, stuttering and spluttering like a fool. Khione just smiled at him.

“You promise you’re not mad?” he finally whispered.

“About you hiding your identity? Yes, I swear on the Church of Halone that I’m not angry about that. About your stunt in the park, however…” She tilted her head a little, her smile growing a bit sharper. “I understand your reasoning, and I know you didn’t mean to hurt me since you couldn’t have known that I would take it as hard as I did, but I am a little miffed regardless. You could’ve just come clean to me then. I was sober enough to talk things out.”

His entire body drooped, and he began rubbing his arms without thinking, nervously awaiting her verdict.

“ _ But _ ,” Khione began, stepping towards him on the quiet, graceful feet of one who had spent so much of her life dancing, “I do think I can overlook this one transgression so long as you swear to  **_never do something so shittastically stupid ever again_ ** .”

Gods, this woman was more terrifying than a thesis defense.

“Now come here and kiss me, you goof.”

G’raha closed the space between them, grabbing Khione’s face to kiss her with all the passion, love, and emotion that hummed through him. 

He couldn’t help the growling purr that rumbled through his chest when she reached up to stroke his ears, nor the chuckle that escaped him when she murmured “nothing more than a contented house cat” against his lips. 

When at last they broke apart, he found her smile radiant, though it was tempered by something still cold in her eyes.

“What is it?” he whispered, hugging her close. “Tell me what that look in your eyes is for.”

Khione inhaled, exhaled, looking up to meet his gaze with misty eyes. “I am still serious… about wanting to take this slowly. Raha, I think I love you too, but it’s been a long time since love was a word that brought me happiness, and there are parts of my heart, my soul that are still shattered and jagged, and I don’t want you to cut yourself on them. I’m not ready to give myself to you fully in mind and body, but my heart is yours if you’ll walk this path with me… at my pace.”

He scooped her into his arms, holding her bridal style, simply because he could and because the joy her words brought, tempered with sadness as they were, had him needing to  _ hold _ her, to protect her. Somehow, that translated to picking her up. Admittedly, his mind was a little scattered and nonsensical, but such was the joy of youth.

“Khione A— what’s your middle name?”

Khione chuckled, even through the happy tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks. “Agesandra, after my dad.”

G’raha nodded, smiling gently. “Khione Agesandra North, I swear to you on my honour, I will walk this path with you. I will be there to hold you up when your legs give out from under you, to pick you up when you think you’ve hit rock bottom. I’ll be by your side on the good days and the bad days, to share in your joys and heartbreaks and the things that anger you, and wow we sound like we’re planning to get married, don’t we?” He hid his blush by kissing her wrist, each letter tattooed on her beautiful, pale skin. 'You do not yield.' Yes, it was quite perfect for his Little Bird. "I can't say that I would mind."

That earned him a genuine laugh and a quick kiss. “We’re historians. Drama is our bread and butter, in many ways…. Plus — and I may be jumping the gun a bit here, but please allow me to be quite forward — I think I can already see a life with you. But small steps first. Let’s just see where this goes.”

“I think that’s a marvellous idea, Little Bird.”

They spent nearly an hour more curled up in bed, simply basking in each other’s presence, before G’raha finally went back to his own flat to grab a weekend bag and his research materials.

She was his and he was hers, and he very much doubted that anything could ruin his mood right now.

Until an email showed up in his inbox with a link to a video.

Of Khione.

Drunk. High as hell. Stumbling around in a pair of pointe shoes and a ballet costume.

He wasn’t the only person to receive it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELL THEN! I hope everyone enjoyed that. This chapter marks the end of the first story arc of this fic, but fear not! This story isn't over yet (far from it). As usual, don't forget to leave a comment or drop me a message!
> 
> The song is "Hunger" by Florence + the Machine.
> 
> If you're a writer and/or reader of FFXIV fanfiction, and you want more awesome content, come join us at Emet-Selch's Wholesomely Debauched Book Club! https://discord.gg/ymjZVaf


	8. Divenire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *throws a cute, fluffy chapter at everyone* Here, have cuties being cuties. Also sensual thigh massages. But mainly just cuties being cuties.

**30 Minutes Later**

G’raha wasn’t sure when the last time he’d run so fast was. He must have made for quite a sight, sprinting down the busy street on which he lived at full tilt, his backpack and overnight bag drumming a rapid beat against his body, unbound scarlet hair flying behind him.

Oh Gods, oh Gods, oh Gods. He couldn’t return to Khione’s side fast enough, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think from sheer  _ panic _ because that email had been part of a burst sent to the  _ entire damn history department _ .

He didn’t even bother knocking on the front door of the flat — as long as someone was home, it was unlocked, according to Zaerise — and he unceremoniously dropped his bags in the front hall because right now, all that mattered was ensuring that Khione was as OK as possible.

She was staring at her computer screen in horror, frozen, and G’raha didn’t even  _ try _ to resist the urge to slam her laptop shut and scoop her into his arms. Khione made no sound, no movement, the only sign of life being the rise and fall of her breast as she attempted to keep herself from hyperventilating. He cradled her against his chest, stroking her hair, keeping her tucked under his chin while his tail wound around her midsection.

Sollielle appeared in the doorway, Aymeric close behind her. Both look horrified and furious, but also as concerned as G’raha was sure he did.

“I don’t… I don’t know how anyone got their hands on that video,” Khione murmured, her voice empty. “I thought it had been deleted from BardTube after Griffin University threatened to expel anyone who shared it.”

“If I might ask….” G’raha began, looking to the two elezen in the doorway for guidance.

“It was the day I collapsed the second time, after I found out Hien was cheating on me again,” Khione answered, idly drawing shapes on G’raha’s arms with her nail. “I was out of control, and some of the understudies in the troupe decided they’d video me being a mess in order to get me kicked out. They almost succeeded.”

He hugged her a little tighter, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. Gods, she was tiny.

“We will find out who did this, Kiki,” Sollielle snarled. “We’ll find out and we’ll make them pay.”

Khione nodded, not even bothering to look at her friends as they left. She simply stared at the patterns she was tracing on G’raha’s arm. “Apparently, I’m not allowed to be happy,” she chuckled, the sound bitter and joyless. It made G’raha’s chest tighten, and he could feel his own fury rising.

“You  _ do  _ get to be happy, Khione. Whoever’s done this, they will be made to pay. And in the meantime, I know you’re strong and you can fight it. I’ll be here, and so will your friends, to help you.”

She finally looked up at him, nodding. “I’m… I’m going to go shower, I think. Feel free to go bother the others.” He didn’t stop her as she slid out of his lap and disappeared into the en-suite.

Unsure of what else to do, he followed her suggestion without much thought, leaden feet carrying him into the spacious living room at the end of the hall.

Estinien leaned against the mantle above the fireplace, Zaerise was trying her damned best to destroy a punching bag, S’zala and Sollielle were hunched over S’zala’s giant-ass laptop, and Aymeric was violently typing something out on his own laptop. None of them noticed G’raha enter until he let out a soft “Oops!” as he tripped over the edge of the rug and only barely avoided eating the corner of the coffee table.

“Mooooood,” S’zala sniggered, though there was no hint of mirth in her voice. Her eyes flicked over to him for a moment before returning to the computer screen.

It was, to G’raha’s surprise, Estinien who spoke up next.

“How is she?”

G’raha shrugged, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “I… I can’t tell. She went to go shower.”

The elezen huffed. “Yeah, you’ll find she does that when she needs a good think. Give her five minutes and she’ll come out acting like nothing happened.”

He really didn’t like the way Estinien just shrugged the thought off, nor the way that none of the others tried to argue. He didn’t like the thought that his Little Bird was going to suffer alone; no, he wouldn’t  _ let _ her suffer alone. He’d promised to take care of her, and he was damn well going to do it.

His conviction had him marching right back to Khione’s room…just in time for her to exit the bathroom in nothing but a thigh-length bathrobe that was only loosely tied. They stared at each other for a long moment, unsure of how to react.

“Uhhhh…. Can I help you?” Khione quipped, quirking an eyebrow at him while she toweled off her hair.

“I, um, well, I, uh, I didn’t want you to be alone because I was worried and your friends seemed so nonchalant — I mean, they’re definitely angry and upset, but they just didn’t seem to be concerned that you were seeking solitude rather than company, and then I blinked and somehow I’d walked back in here.”

Khione chuckled softly, shaking her head with a fond smile as she walked over to him. “I appreciate it, Raha. I’m…. I’m not sad or depressed, if that’s what worries you.” 

Relief flooded his system at that, and his entire body visibly relaxed. “If you’re not sad, then what are you?” he murmured, tentatively stepping forward to rest his hands gently on her terrycloth-covered hips. She folded herself into him, resting her wet head on his chest while he tucked her beneath his chin. Truly, it was incredible how she seemed to fit perfectly against him. He didn’t think he’d ever get over the thought.

“I’m angry. Furious. Confused, certainly, but mostly I’m angry that someone was able to get their hands on that video, and that they had the gall to share it…. But I’m not scared of the consequences. When I applied to this programme, I was completely up front with the admissions board about what had happened to me. They already knew about the circumstances surrounding my hiatus from academia, and they accepted me anyways. All of the professors know, too, considering Professor Emet-Selch is my godsfather, and I grew up with him and Hythlodaeus coming to stay at our house a few times a year. I don’t much care what my classmates think, since their opinions just don’t matter. The only people whose opinions I care about either live with me, are related to me, or love me and are currently staring down at my boobs accidentally.”

He thought on her words for a moment, and then pouted. “I am definitely not staring at your boobs. I’m staring at your face. It’s not my fault you’re short,” he whined, poking her gently in the side before his face returned to its expression of concern and adoration. “But you are correct in saying that I love you.”

Khione hummed, standing up on her toes to kiss his cheek. “Go make yourself comfy while I get dressed.”

G’raha’s arms felt empty without her presence, but he did as he was bade, digging through his overnight bag to pull out a pair of jogger pants. Whatever the rest of the day had in store for him, he planned to be comfy. Plus, as Khione had so aptly put it, jeans weren’t fun to snuggle with.

Soft pants on, he flopped onto the bed and grabbed his book on the epic poetry of Allag. Khione reappeared a few minutes later, similarly dressed in a pair of black leggings and a plain black tank top, her hair piled in a messy bun atop her head. He didn’t even have to invite her to join him; she automatically climbed onto the bed next to him, snuggling up against his side with her laptop.

He didn’t get one sentence into his reading before curiosity and overprotectiveness got the better of him.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to — I’ll not push you, you have my word — but if you’re willing, would you tell me what that video is about? I only saw the first few seconds of it before I couldn’t stomach anymore.”

Khione looked up at him, brows raised in surprise, but the smile she gave him, though bittersweet, was fond and sent warm relief washing over G’raha.

“No, it’s alright. I know I let the others tell you my story — the whole entire tragedy gets to be a bit too much for me, so I generally let them do it instead — but I’m okay with telling individual episodes. Hells, it helps me think and work through them, and if you’re serious about… _ us _ …, well, I think you have a right to know my perspective.”

G’raha nodded, setting his book down so he could pull her into his lap. “You have my undivided attention.”

“As Sol told you, I was a dancer with the ballet company at Griffin University while I was doing my Master's. As Sol also told you, I’d started spiralling out of control by that point — dangerously so. Gods, I remember waking up that morning feeling like death warmed over. I'd been up until well past midnight studying, called Zenos over to my place, then woke up hungover and exhausted just in time to get ready for my recital. I drowned it with a lot of whiskey and some less than legal drugs, and went straight to our winter recital. I’d always been able to hold myself together on stage, even when under the influence, but backstage, I was a mess. Some of the other dancers who were jockeying for my spot in the company filmed me, hoping to get me kicked out. It was mainly my understudy, Lyse — she was the chick Hien was cheating with. If I hadn’t collapsed when I did, they would’ve succeeded. Instead, I was allowed to take a very graceful permanent leave of absence from the company.”

He found himself surprised by how matter-of-factly she told the story, but relieved that she didn’t appear to be in much emotional distress. 

“It must’ve been horrible,” he murmured, kissing the top of her head, “but you got through it, my strong Little Bird.”

She hummed, chuckling softly. “Just like I’ll get through this. I’m done being sad about the shitty hands I’ve been dealt. It’s time to start fighting back.”

Well, he certainly couldn’t argue with that, he mused, picking his book back up while Khione started work on a study outline for one of her classes. In the background, soft instrumental music played, courtesy of G’raha’s laptop.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, each doing their own thing, and before either of them knew it, Aymeric was calling the entire flat into the kitchen for lunch.

**Five Minutes Later**

“Raha…,” Khione sighed, trying — for the fifth time, mind you — to wiggle her way out of the miqo’te’s embrace. “You have literally no reason to be scared of my friends at this point. Lunch will be a good chance for all of you to get to know each other.”

G’raha pouted, though his tail swished playfully and his ears twitched the way they did whenever he was trying to make her laugh. It earned him a fond smile.

“Just two more minutes?” he whined.

“That’s what you said two minutes ago. Plus, if we don’t go eat, Sollielle  _ will _ come kick down the door. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but my friends are particularly strict about making sure I show up for meals.”

She could see him thinking back on all the times she’d had to cut their hangouts and adventures short because her friends were screeching at her through the tomeStone to get her ass either home or to some restaurant for meals. She knew she’d won.

“Ugh fiiiiine,” G’raha huffed, releasing his hold on her. It left her feeling a little cold. “If only because I don’t want to incur Sollielle’s wrath.”

Khione slid out of G’raha’s arms, reaching into his overnight bag to steal his hoodie, simply because she could. She was his and he was hers, and by the Fury, she was going to take advantage of her new status as much as possible.

G’raha didn’t protest, and in fact looked quite satisfied with himself. 

“I dare say you look better in it than I do,” he shrugged as she led him out of her room and to the kitchen.

The others looked far less at peace than Khione and G’raha did. She didn’t doubt that they’d spent the entire morning pulling whatever strings and connections they had to figure out who’d sent the video to the entire history department, but, although she was still furious and troubled by it, Khione couldn’t bring herself to spend another day being unhappy when she had something genuinely bright and beautiful in her life again.

“Oh! I just remembered that I actually need to run down to the Moogle Depot to pick up a letter from my parents,” she hummed, grabbing a sandwich from the cutting board beside Aymeric. She made a big point of taking a bite before turning to grab her keys and wallet from the shelf where they all kept such things, then slipped on her running shoes. “You all eat without me and take good care of Raha, okay? I’ll be back soon.”

She was gone before any of them could argue.

The leaves on the trees had all changed colour, golds and browns and reds in conquest over the purples and greens of summer’s last grasp. Khione had always enjoyed autumn. ‘The time of transitions,’ her mother had always called it. A time for change set against the backdrop of a veritable jewelbox of colours and crisp winds. Yes, this was certainly shaping up to be a momentous autumn for her.

It was strange to think of where she’d been two years prior: in the middle of rehab, fighting desperately against her own broken mind. ‘Failure to thrive’ had been tossed about by a number of doctors who knew nothing of her except cold, clinical diagnoses. Three years prior, she’d just found out about Hien’s cheating for the first time, and begun her rapid descent into madness.

How many autumns had passed whose beauty she had missed because of her own blindness? How many opportunities for growth and change had she rejected for fear of rocking the boat? Well, no matter the answer, she was determined to make up for lost time. Breathing in the brisk air, she made a vow to herself that she would not take this autumn for granted. Not when she had so much to fight for and protect; her research, her health, her sanity, her heart. These were things she would not allow be destroyed or derailed ever again, not when so many people had supported her and guided her. She would protect her friendships, her newfound closeness with her parents, her budding relationship with Raha — because, for all of her pretty speeches about not wishing to fully enter into an actual relationship with him, she (happily) found her resolve on that matter quite weak. Even just  _ thinking _ about his name made her smile and want to swing herself around the nearest lamppost and sing, not because he completed her, but because he  _ complemented _ her. Perhaps some people might call her crazy and delusional for saying such about a man she’d only known for five moons, but she didn’t  _ care _ . People always said that one would just intrinsically  _ know _ when one finds their Person, and Wicked White, she’d found hers. The future was boundless and full of hope, and Khione felt lighter than she had in her entire life.

She was still going to murder whomever was trying to terrorise her. She was also going to murder Zenos for continuing to text her constantly despite her multiple rejections.

When she got back to the apartment, everyone was in the living room. G’raha was sandwiched between Aymeric and Estinien on the sofa, while Solliele, S’zala, and Zaerise had formed a cuddle puddle on the giant armchair that might as well have been a second sofa. 

“Oh, good,” Khione chuckled, smirking at G’raha. “You all let him live.”

Estinien jerked his chin at her with a wicked sneer-smirk. “Barely. You missed the advanced interrogation.” 

Khione cocked an eyebrow, a grin curling on her lips. “Estinien Wyrmblood, if you scare him away, I’ll dye your hair hot pink.”

“I wasn’t the one doing the scaring,” the silver-haired elezen harrumphed, pointing at Aymeric. “Mister Perfect over there was about to go all protective big brother.”

Aymeric, for his part, looked the picture of innocence. G’raha just looked mildly uncomfortable.

Khione laughed and went over to join her friends in the cuddle puddle, claiming her rightful spot on Sol’s lap.

**At the Same Time…**

G’raha, although incredibly uncomfortable being squished between two male elezen, couldn’t help but smile as he observed the group as a whole, the way they all meshed together like a single family unit.

All of their joking aside, Khione’s friends had been kind, if a little awkward, with him. They all — himself included — seemed a little unsure of how to interact with one another without Khione there, but eventually the conversation had become less stilted and more natural. He found that both he and S’zala loved the same variety of catnip to deal with anxiety. Aymeric was currently reading a book about Allagan military culture that G’raha had helped write, giving the two of them some common ground. Zaerise was fascinated to learn that he practiced archery along with dance in his free time, and Sollielle had nearly destroyed everyone’s eardrums with her shriek upon learning that not only did G’raha dance, but he also sang.

When they’d heard the key turn in the front door, they’d all decided to play a prank on Khione, making her think that everyone had been quite mean. Sadly, she seemed used to their antics and didn’t believe them for a single second. Still, it was fun to think that perhaps his sort-of-girlfriend’s friends were making the effort to get to know him beyond his role of being the TA for their research methods class.

As the afternoon wore on, Estinien brought out his guitar, and S’zala her harp. Sollielle begged G’raha to sing for them, which he initially refused until Khione had joined in on the begging. He was very, very weak to her.

By the time they decided to order Ala Mhigan food for dinner, the entire rest of the group had joined in on singing — even Khione, much to G’raha’s delight. He’d made her promise to sing a duet with him next time. She told him she’d consider.

Everyone drifted off to their various rooms after dinner, full of wonderful curries and perhaps a bit too much alcohol in some cases, excited for whatever activities they and their chosen companions might get up to in privacy.

G’raha led Khione back to her room, pouncing on her the moment the door was shut behind them.

Her lips were warm and soft, tasting of the mild, creamy curry she’d eaten for dinner, a hint of sweet from the raisins and the yogurt drink she’d used to cool her mouth whenever she ate something spicy. G’raha’s hands reached up to release inky blue hair from the messy knot atop her head, an archer’s gently-calloused hands drowning themselves in the midnight sea. She slowly guided him to the bed, breaking the kiss only for brief gulps of air, and dragged him down beneath the ocean of sheets with her like an ancient siren. He couldn’t think beyond his need to touch her, to explore her body and figure out each and every song he could coax from her. His entire body felt like it was set aflame when she broke away to tug his sweatshirt and her top over her head…. And then her tomeStone rang.

It was a very distinctive tone, like some sort of eerie, old-timey piano clanging and twanging.

With a hissed string of swears, Khione broke away and dashed over to her discarded tomeStone, diving to grab it from its spot on her desk.

“Shit fuck shit fuck shit fuck shit shit shit shit shit fuck,” she snarled, and G’raha realised that she was getting a video call. He quickly threw her his hoodie. She hit ‘answer’ the moment it was safely over her head.

“Hi Maman,” Khione chirped. G’raha could hear the nervousness in her voice.

“It took you long enough to pick up, Kiki,” Kore North chided, though she wore a kind smile. 

G’raha found himself rather startled by how similar Khione looked to her mother: the same large silver eyes and hooked, beaklike nose set against sharp cheekbones and a heart-shaped face. He also found himself extremely uncomfortable considering the tightness in his trousers, but he supposed it couldn’t be helped.

“Did you need something, Maman?”

“Sollielle emailed us about the video resurfacing,” a man called from offscreen. He came into view a few moments later. 

Agesander North was exactly as intimidating-looking over video chat as he was in pictures. Tall with striking cobalt eyes and dark blue hair, he looked the part of world-renowned aether researcher. G’raha would have perhaps been terrified were it not for the fact that all he could think about was how Khione’s perfume drove him wild.

Slowly, the miqo’te reached over to brush his hand against Khione’s, passing it off as readjusting his position next to her. She didn’t recoil, so he gently laid his palm atop her knee, trying his best to stay out of the picture.

“Oh, that video? I’m honestly not worried. I’ll email Uncle Emet in the morning and ask him to talk to the administration about putting a blanket ban on it or something. I don’t really have ti-III-ime to be worrying about it.”

G’raha grinned at the way Khione’s voice caught and broke when he began to gently rub circles on her knee with the pad of his thumb. He smirked wickedly at the way she shivered and tried to remain calm.

“Khione…. Is someone there with you?” Agesander gruffed, frowning. Khione turned a brilliant red as G’raha trailed his fingertips up her leg by just a few ilms, and gave her parents a smile that was far too sweet.

“Oh, it’s just S’zala. She’s been trying to attack me with tickles all day.”

“Khione Agesandra North, you’re a terrible liar.”

G’raha used the moment to move his hand a little higher and a little more towards her inner thigh, pretending to stare out the window at the glowing park below. He dug his fingers in a little deeper, slowly massaging the lean, firm muscle he found there. Khione looked like she was about to implode.

“It’s just a friend from scho—”

“You mean you have a gentleman friend over?”

Khione groaned and turned the screen so her parents could see G’raha, who gave them his winningest, most charming, most harmless smile ever.

“And who might you be, young man?” Agesander drawled, narrowing his eyes at G’raha. The miqo’te didn’t skip a beat, his hand moving dangerously high on Khione’s inner thigh, the tip of his index finger running back and forth along the juncture between her leg and her trunk.

“G’raha Tia, sir, and might I say that it is an honour to meet you. I’m quite a fan of your work — both of yours.” He gave Kore a charming, ‘I’m the guy you hope your daughter will marry’ sort of smile. It worked. Both of the Norths relaxed, nodding their assent.

“Right, you’re Hades’s assistant,” Agesander mused, stroking his beard. G’raha deepened his massage of Khione’s inner thigh, savouring every little hitch of her breath whenever he teasingly moved towards the arousal he could smell like a potent perfume.

“That’s correct, sir.”

“Are you helping Kiki study for her exams?” Kore inquired, lowering her reading glasses on her nose to better look at G’raha.

“I am, yes ma’am. We were just going over basic conversational Amaurotine.”

This seemed to satisfy both parents, who remained blissfully unaware of the high-strung, horny mess G’raha was turning their daughter into.

“Well, Kiki, if you’re sure you’re feeling okay…,” Kore sighed, giving Khione another concerned look.

“I-I am, Maman.”

“Call us tomorrow, will you, Pumpkin?” Agesander huffed. “Your mother worries with you being so far away, and it’s distracting her from her research.”

“I wi-II-ll, Papa.”

G’raha dug his fingers particularly deep into the muscle of her thigh, massaging out all of the tension. He had zero regrets.

“Goodnight, Kiki Cat,” Kore hummed, waving. Agesander gave a small nod, and then the screen went black.

Khione turned to glare at G’raha, her cheeks a vibrant rose colour and her pupils blown wide.

“What in the name of Halone’s frilly lace knickers was  _ that _ ?” she hissed, fixing him with a mighty glare. G’raha just grinned wickedly, leaning forward to steal a kiss. 

“You have gorgeous legs. I couldn’t resist.”

“You were totally going to get laid tonight. Not anymore. It’s 10 PM and I’m going to bed,” she sniffed with a pout, standing to remove her leggings before diving into the bed.

“As long as I get to hold you, I don’t much care,” G’raha shrugged as he slipped into the bed behind her. He sat up long enough to remove his shirt, leaving his joggers on to give an extra layer of protection between his very hard arousal and any misunderstandings, and then wrapped his arms around Khione, pulling her close. His tail wound around one of those tauntingly beautiful thighs, and a purr rumbled through his chest.

“You’re very lucky I love you,” Khione grumbled, placing her arm over his around her midsection. “Or else you’d be sleeping on the floor.”

G’raha simply chuckled and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head.

“Goodnight, Little Bird.”

“Goodnight, Raha.”

**At the Same Time, in a Different Time Zone…**

Strong hands slammed the table as the owner stood. He’d just watched a video he never wished to see again. By the Kami, he couldn’t imagine what she must be dealing with right now if that was resurfacing. She was in Norvrandt City now, last he checked. Perhaps it had been long enough that he could go pay a visit without getting castrated. Yes, he would do that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Y'all know the drill! I love hearing from you!
> 
> Raha's cheeky thigh massaging inspired in part by ThePaperNautilus's refulgence. I highly recommend. 50/10.
> 
> If you're a writer and/or reader of FFXIV fanfiction, and you want more awesome content, come join us at Emet-Selch's Wholesomely Debauched Book Club! https://discord.gg/ShMwvS


	9. Shake It Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cuteness, Feels, More Feels, MORE FEELS, Cuteness, Feels.
> 
> Have fun!

**Monday Morning, Norvrandt City**

After all of the excitement of Saturday, Sunday had been quiet in the way the world goes still and peaceful before a mighty storm breaks. It had been spent in much the same way as the two of them always spent Sundays: together, in the large corner booth of The Musica Universalis Café and Dessertery, hunched over piles of books and papers highlighted in various neon colours. It had been a day of little touches; fingers brushing while reaching for cups of coffee, knees pressing together beneath the table in silent reminder of each other’s presence, chaste kisses between bites of vanilla scone.

Khione decided she liked this new sort of normal. G’raha had a gentle way of putting her at ease, his company a warm and comforting presence that, though it had been there since first they became friends, she started noticing and appreciating more.

Of course, she wasn’t surprised when he also displayed little bits of protectiveness in the way she had once observed a male magpie comforting its mate after their nest had been attacked by an owl. He didn’t baby her or patronise her, but rather he seemed to anticipate what she was feeling before she could even give voice to her own thoughts without crowding her or pressuring her to share such things with him. He didn’t pressure her to eat, but rather always made sure that food was handy if she wanted it; nor did he push too hard when she got flooded with texts from Zenos and spent many long minutes just glaring at her tomeStone and the dick pic du jour. She wasn’t sure she was ready to share the extent of her Zenos problem with anyone, and certainly not with her new boyfriend.

Falling asleep in his embrace was certainly something she could get used to. Waking up to find his side of the bed already empty would still require a bit of time, but he’d left a note promising her coffee upon her arrival to campus and apologising for Professor Emet-Selch’s complete disregard for normal schedules. It was enough to get her out of bed and into the shower to start a new week.

Khione had no illusions that the day would be easy, not after that blasted email and Zenos’s steadily-increasing deluge of insistent messages, and so she dressed for battle.

As her mother had always said, the best armour a woman could use was a crisp, elegant white blouse. Khione chose her favourite, a tailored piece with classically ruffled sleeves that made her think of a grand politician, or perhaps a pirate. Next, she pulled on a pair of sheer black stockings, hooking them to a garter belt trimmed in ink blue lace. With a hum, she slipped into another favourite article of clothing, a shin-length midi skirt in a lightweight Black Watch plaid wool that gave the look a dainty, feminine vibe. She had to dash next door to Sollielle’s room for help with the next bit: a black corset with dark blue laces to match the dark blue-and-black tailored military jacket she pulled on over her top, making sure the ruffles of her sleeves flounced _just right_. With a final smirk in her floor-length mirror, she slipped on a pair of black lace-up booties with thistle cameos on the decorative buckles.

Dressed for combat, war paint applied, hair braided in an elegant coronet around the back of her head, Khione was ready to take on the day.

G’raha, however, was apparently _not_ prepared for this particular outfit. His computer screen was certainly not prepared to have coffee spat all over it. 

Khione nearly wet herself laughing at the way he panicked, his ears flat against his head while his tail twitched madly. Once she was sure she wasn’t about to cry her makeup off, she swept in to help him before stealing a kiss and taking her seat across the table.

“Good morning, Pretty Kitty,” she teased with a little smirk, mirth glittering in her eyes while she slung her messenger bag over the back of her chair. 

“I, um, good morning,” G’raha sputtered, his ears fluttering. Khione couldn’t help but feel a surge of affection at the way his cheeks flushed and his tail swayed as he looked her up and down. “Ah…. Did you sleep well?”

She smiled broadly at him, taking a sip of coffee. “Mmm I fell asleep in the arms of a handsome man and woke up to the promise of free coffee. I can’t complain.”

G’raha nodded, sipping gently at his own drink. “Good. I’m glad.”

Khione cocked an eyebrow at him, smirking once more. “Everything alright, Raha?” She gave him a brazen once-over, admiring the way his black button-down fit him perfectly, showing off those lean biceps she had covered in little kisses the night previous. She couldn’t help but note the way his blush grew darker, his tail swishing like a happy dog’s. She also noted the way he fidgeted in his seat. It didn’t take much thought to figure out why.

“I-I, well, I just…. Is there some sort of special occasion I’m missing? I mean, not that there’s anything wrong with your current outfit, and in fact, I must say it really quite suits you, Little Bird, and I most definitely am not one to argue with a beautiful woman showing up to meet me for coffee wearing an equally beautiful outfit…. But why do you look like you’re dressed for a trooping of the colours?”

Khione smiled at him until she thought her cheeks might go numb. “My aunt always taught me that when the world tries to tear you down, you put on your most badass outfit and scariest pair of heels, and you show the world who’s in charge. I’m simply following her advice.” She gave a little shrug.

G’raha seemed to relax, tilting his head to the side a bit as he examined her once more with a fond smile of his own. Beneath the table, his tail slowly trailed up her leg, teasingly pulling up her skirt a little.

“Well, fair glad am I to not be missing something important, then. I must say, the look suits you.”

It was Khione’s turn to blush between the cheeky tail and his earnest words and that easy, handsome smile. She cursed the clock for chiming 8 AM. She had a meeting with Uncle Hades — Professor Emet-Selch, she had to correct herself — regarding a research position. Honestly, she would have much preferred to spend the morning with G’raha in the café instead.

“As much as I would love to stay and hear your full opinion on my choice of attire for the day,” she sighed, chugging the rest of her coffee and grabbing her bag, “I have a meeting with Professor Emet-Selch. Care to escort me, handsome?”

G’raha chuckled, finishing his own coffee, and nodded. “It would be my pleasure, [snow faerie].”

He offered her his hand, which she happily took in favour of checking whatever stupid Zenos message had her tomeStone buzzing now, and led her out of the coffeeshop and onto the main quadrangle of the university campus. They chatted along the way about the audiobook they’d listened to while she’d braided his hair the previous evening, and about whether or not Highland Fae was a distinct language from Lowland Fae or simply a dialect.

Khione found herself grateful for the warmth G’raha seemed to constantly put out. She was even more grateful when he stopped and draped his cardigan over her shoulders to protect her from the autumn morning chill. Satisfied that she wasn’t going to freeze to death, he’d twined his fingers with hers once more and continued onwards towards the history building.

It struck her, as she listened to him chatter about his most recent debate with Professor Hythlodaeus about the Fae language, that she felt happier with him than she’d felt in her entire life. Of course, her happiness wasn’t hinged on whether or not he cared for her, but he always seemed to be able to bring a smile to her heart, even when she was lost in the dark depths of her own soul. Knowing that he loved her, and that he had promised to do everything in his power to support her was merely icing on the cake. She trusted him in a way she’d never trusted Hien — perhaps a part of her had always known that Hien was fickle and weak when faced with the storm that was Khione and her emotions. G’raha had already looked that howling gale in the eye… and laughed. She had no doubts in her heart that everything he had promised her was the truth, and for the first time in her quarter-century of life, she was content.

She stopped him beneath a brilliant yellow gingko tree and kissed him for all he was worth. G’raha was confused, but kissed her back nonetheless, his tail winding around her midsection.

“What was that for, Little Bird?” he sighed when at last they parted. Khione felt the need to steal another kiss from his slightly-swollen lips, and run her finger along the edge of one of his velveteen ears. She giggled when it fluttered.

“I just wanted to,” she hummed, taking his arm and draping it over her shoulders so she could snuggle close to his side as they walked.

“Well, I certainly won’t argue with that,” G’raha purred, giving her shoulders a little squeeze. “Though do try to warn me next time so I don’t almost trip over my own feet.”

He rubbed the back of his neck with his other hand, giving a small, sheepish chuckle.

“I swear,” Khione teased, “I’ve never met such a clumsy cat.”

G’raha’s ears fluttered, and he pouted down at her, something small and insecure flitting through his eyes. “I-I… Well, I…. We can’t all be former ballet dancers,” he stuttered, giving a long sigh.

Khione tilted her head, brows furrowing in confusion. “I was just teasing you, silly. What’s with that face?”

G’raha fidgeted, but waved her off with a placating smile that Khione didn’t buy one bit. “It’s nothing, Kiki. Don’t worry your pretty head about it.”

Khione frowned, but continued walking towards the history department building without another word on the matter.

Fittingly, the history department was housed in the second-oldest building on the sprawling campus of Exarch University. It never failed to leave Khione breathless with awe at the scrawling wrought-iron details of the blue crystal dome of the atrium, the Art Deco style of the building’s interior, the smell of historic texts and ink and lavender that wafted through the halls. 

She pouted a little when G’raha dropped his arm from her shoulders and scooted away to create a _respectable_ space between the two of them as they approached Professor Hades Emet-Selch’s open office door. G’raha pretended not to notice the expression, but he poked her in the side with the tip of his tail regardless before he knocked on the door jamb.

Hades Emet-Selch was considered a living legend among scholars of Allagan and Amaurotine history. To Khione, he was just Uncle Hades.

“Uncle Ha— I mean, Professor Emet-Selch,” Khione murmured politely, giving the scholar a matching smile. “I’m here.”

Hades looked up with a cocked brow, a wry smirk curling to one side of his mouth as his golden doe eyes landed first on Khione, then on G’raha, then on G’raha’s cardigan draped over Khione’s shoulders. Khione couldn’t help but blush a little at the knowing glint in his eyes.

“Yes, yes, Little North, I can see that,” her uncle and godsfather sighed, vaguely gesturing for her to sit. He made no such gesture to G’raha. “So much like your mother, always unnecessarily narrating things.”

Khione chuckled, mirroring his expression with her own. “Good to see you’re as grumpy as ever.”

“You would be grumpy too if you received calls in the middle of the night from your university roommate about a _certain miqo’te teaching assistant_ and his relationship with said university roommate’s daughter.”

_Oh, fucking hell…_

Khione groaned, sinking down into her seat, smacking her forehead with her palm. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Has anyone ever told you,” Hades grumbled, sighing heavily through his nose, “that your father is an absolutely overprotective busybody?”

“Uncle Hades, I am _so_ sorry.”

Hades merely shrugged and took a sip of his tea. “Oh, no need to apologise. I am quite used to such silliness from your dear father. However….” Hades’ lips curled into a wicked smile. “Out of my own curiosity, am I to assume that the two of you are now an item? If you’re both going to be working with me on my comprehensive anthology of the ancient world, I would very much like to know what sort of youthful foolishness I need to warn you both against.”

Khione very much wished to sink into the floor and disappear.

She could hear G’raha fidgeting and shuffling behind her. “W-Well… I… Yes sir.”

Hades raised his brow higher, but nodded and turned his gaze to G’raha. “Hmph. I do hope you know what you’re getting into. You will find, G’raha Tia, that one does not simply _deal_ with the Despoine women. One only _survives_ them, and is fair glad for it.”

Khione felt a small pang of sadness when her godsfather nodded to the framed photograph on his desk featuring two women and a little girl — Khione (age 6), her mother, and her mother’s older sister, Melinoia Morrigan Azem. Another picture, sitting next to it, showed her teenage self — fifteen or sixten at most — sitting next to a hospital bed, laughing with Aunt Mor. Sadness, old, but still sharp, clanged through her some more, until G'raha placed a supportive hand on her shoulder.

She turned to watch G’raha’s reaction. Relief flooded her when he shot her godsfather the same charming smile he’d given her parents. “I’ve never been one to fear storms, professor. In fact, I rather love them.”

Khione could’ve kissed him right there were she not still frozen by the mortifying thought that her parents would almost certainly now hear this bit of news from Uncle Hades rather than from her. Why were old academics such a bunch of gossiping old hens?

The rest of the meeting, blessedly, passed without further event. It was all a formality anyways, given the fact that Hades was very familiar with Khione’s credentials, past work, and passion for the subject. Hells, he’d been the one who had introduced her to ancient history in the first place. It seemed only right that she was now joining his research team. 

Given that they were in the midst of midterm preparation time, Professor Lahabrea had cancelled class — Khione suspected he also just couldn’t be arsed to actually think up new material while also writing out their exam — and Professor Hythlodaeus spent much of their Intermediate Ancient Amaurotine class period debating with another student, Myhri, about whether or not the epic poem they were currently studying had sexist undertones. Khione didn’t have the heart to point out to either of them that they were supporting the same side. She just wished she had popcorn.

Even at the warmest point of the day, the air was still crisp and chilled as Khione stepped out onto the quad. G’raha still had one more class to TA, meaning she was on her own for an hour. That was just fine with her. She didn’t want the two of them to burn out on each other, and it was nice to have some time to herself…. Even if it meant dealing with the stares and whispers alone.

Earbuds and some good music were the best weapons in her arsenal in such situations, like blinders on a cart horse. All she had to worry about was the steady beat of the music and the path ahead of her as she walked from the quad to the Crystalline Mean street market that sat two blocks east of campus.

_‘Regrets collect like old friends, here to relive your darkest moments~’_

Had she been more aware of her surroundings, she might have felt the prickle of being watched on the back of her neck, or heard the ragged, heavy breathing of someone following far too closely behind. Perhaps she noticed these things and simply ignored them.

_‘And I’ve been a fool and I’ve been blind; I can never leave the past behind~’_

Thankfully, Khione had been learning martial arts since her second week of rehab.

_‘Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh woah… And it’s hard to dance with the devil on your back, so shake him off, oh woah~’_

She didn’t even bother looking at whomever it was that was foolish enough to grab her _hard_ by the shoulder. She knew a possessive, creepy touch when she saw — or felt — one, and she reacted accordingly. Plus, this was fairly standard for them. Unfortunately.

Khione didn’t take the time to identify the large, hulking man she’d just judo-flipped over her shoulder like a sack of popotoes, mainly because she already knew who it was, and was used to this stupid, foolish game. Instead, she took off running, following a winding, nonsensical path back to campus that took her much of the rest of her free hour to complete.

G’raha was just exiting the history building when at last Khione skidded to a halt. He looked confused to say the very least.

“Is…. Is everything alright, Little Bird?” he asked, looking her over for any obvious sign of injury or distress. Khione held up a hand, signalling him to give her a moment to catch her breath. She gracelessly collapsed on a nearby bench, opening her bag to check and make sure her laptop was okay. Thankfully, it appeared unharmed by the ordeal.

“Ugh, Zenos tried to grab me. Again,” she finally wheezed, pulling an inhaler out from her bag.

G’raha’s answering _snarl-hiss_ was nothing short of pure male protectiveness, anger, and dominance. Were it not for the fact that she was still coming down from the usual major fight-or-flight response to a potentially scary situation, Khione would have found the noise very _exciting_.

As things stood, though, she really just wanted to get out of the vicinity of the university for the time being. Plus, she was hungry.

“Are you ready to head out?” She looked to him pleadingly. G’raha, Halone bless him, understood perfectly as he stooped to pick up her bag and sling it over his free shoulder, inclining his head in the direction of the university’s aethernet plaza. He offered her his hand, which she greedily took, twining her fingers with his tightly.

“This is what, the sixth time in the past two moons that he’s pulled this sort of shit?” G’raha growled, ears flattened to his head with irritation..

Khione nodded, chewing on her lip. “He literally doesn’t seem to understand what ‘no’ means, and I don’t know how else to make him understand.”

G’raha sighed, but said nothing for a few moments.

“Do you mind if we stop by my place really quickly? I imagine you’re going to want the pleasure of my company tonight?”

Khione nodded, giving him a little smile. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

G’raha’s building was larger and far grander than the building that Khione and her friends called home, and Khione would be lying if she said she wasn’t jealous of the location. The Crystarium was right across the street, the Crystalline Mean’s western entrance stood just down the busy Dossal Avenue, and the Aethernet Station was right next door. Was it too early to move in with him?

Khione’s soul just about left her body when he led her up to the penthouse apartment at the very top of the bright blue building, aptly named ‘The Crystal Tower Apartments.’

“Ummmm…. Is there something you want to tell me, Raha?” she murmured as he slid his key into the door.

The miqo’te’s ears flickered and flattened against his head, his tail standing at attention. “Huh? What do you mean?”

“Raha…. I come from a _very_ wealthy background, and even _I_ wouldn’t be able to afford this place in a million years. You’re a third-year PhD student.”

G’raha visibly relaxed, opening the door for her. The interior was just as luxurious as the exterior; all gold marble floors and walls of blue crystal, chandeliers dripping with zircon, and was that the sound of an indoor fountain?

“It was a gift from my mentor — well, he was more like a second father to me, after my own father passed away. You ever heard of Rammbroes Zasertylsyn?”

Khione was sure that if she’d been eating or drinking something at that moment, she would have choked. “ _The_ Rammbroes Zasertylsyn?”

G’raha nodded, leading her further into the apartment, down a long hallway to a large circular room.

“After I left my village — well, more like I was kind of forced out, but that’s not a particularly important story because I was happy to leave — I travelled to Sharlayan. Rammbroes caught sixteen-year-old me reading a giant tome on Allag and he took me under his wing. Sponsored my studies at the university there, plus my Master’s degree. He recently decided to leave Norvrandt City and move back to Sharlayan, so he just kind of… gifted this place to me on the condition that I dedicate my first solo book to him.”

Khione blinked rapidly at him, speechless at the way he just casually explained that he was basically the adopted son of one of the world’s premier ancient historians who had gifted him this veritable palace. And she thought she came from serious academic royalty…

G’raha tossed his school bag, along with Khione’s, onto the surprisingly modest bed sitting beneath a large oval window that overlooked the city. “Feel free to sit while I get my overnight bag together. I’ll just be a minute or two.”

Khione nodded, perching herself on the little chair at his desk. 

For all the grandeur of the rest of the apartment, G’raha’s room was surprisingly…sparse. 

The window over the bed, in keeping with the interior architecture of many other buildings in the city, took up a large space on the wall. Identical windows were dotted around the circumference of the room, allowing in plenty of light. It gave the room an open, vibrant feeling… were it not for the heavy curtains covering all but the one over the bed.

A pair of simple gold doors led into what Khione assumed was G’raha’s closet — they’d passed a bathroom smelling of his cologne just outside this particular room. G’raha disappeared through them, confirming her theory.

His desk wasn’t nearly as cluttered as hers, but the piles and piles of books surrounding it made her mouth water. There was nothing sexier than a well-read man.

True to his word, G’raha emerged from his closet a mere minute later with his overnight bag packed with fresh clothes. He set it down next to their school bags on the bed, then left the room to grab toiletries from his bathroom. 

“Alright, I’m ready when you are, Kiki,” he hummed, slinging all three bags over his shoulders with a warm smile. He began to walk out of the room, only to stop and grab an extra sweatshirt and a blanket, which he tossed at her. “For nights when I can’t stay over.”

Khione felt her heart melt a little more as she followed him out of the apartment, hugging the soft wool blanket to her chest.

Wicked White, what on this star had she done to deserve such a lovely man?

G’raha chittered and chattered as they walked from Khione’s Aethernet Station to her apartment, and it struck her that he seemed entirely unconcerned by the fact that she’d been almost attacked earlier. From the tense set of his shoulders that had absolutely nothing to do with the three bags (two of which were fairly heavy) he was carrying, she could tell that he hadn’t forgotten. It scared her, a little, to think about what it meant.

“Raha,” she murmured as they climbed into the elevator in her building. G’raha turned to look at her with that soft, comforting smile of his.

“What is it, Little Bird?”

“I… You’re not going to say anything about earlier?” she asked as they stepped off the elevator. “I know this isn’t the first time, but you’re not the tiniest bit disturbed?”

**That Moment**

G’raha opened his mouth to answer, only to freeze when they found the door of Khione’s apartment wide open. He dropped everything he was carrying to sprint inside to where Aymeric, Estinien, and Sollielle stood around the prone form of a hyuran male. He had never seen the three elezen look so terrifyingly angry.

It felt like the dam holding back his own emotions was beginning to break.

Khione came up beside him, still clutching his favourite childhood blanket close.

“W-what’s going on here?” she commanded, looking to Sollielle.

The elezen woman snorted angrily, stepping aside to allow Khione into the circle while she gestured down to the man.

G’raha could now see that he was a fairly tall (for a hyur) man with long, messy black hair tied in a thick ponytail; a thin, sharp scruff-beard-thing that appeared well-groomed; broad, tanned shoulders that led into thick, muscular arms; and the sort of face that almost certainly had made many a pair of panties drop.

In short, this dude, bruised as he already was from whatever the elezen had done to him, was _hot_.

Khione made a sound that could only barely be called natural as she stomped around to the man’s field of vision. She knelt, her silver eyes blazing like white-hot flames. G’raha was certain the temperature had just dropped exponentially from the glacial ice of her countenance.

“ _What_ ,” she spat as though talking to this stranger filled her mouth with poison, “are **_you_ ** doing here?”

The stranger groaned, trying to sit up, but Khione used the toe of her boot to push him back onto his back while she stood up straight, bringing herself to full height. G’raha moved to stand beside her, to support her if needed.

“I said,” she spat again, “what the blasted, bloody fuck are you doing here, you lying, worthless piece of dog shit?”

“It is good to see you too, Khione. You look gorgeous as always. I’ve missed you.”

It dawned on G’raha who the stranger was exactly .000000000001 seconds before he launched himself at the man.

“Answer her question, gods damn you,” the miqo’te snarled, grabbing Hien Rijin by the collar of his yellow-and-black t-shirt.

“Can’t I come visit someone about whom I care?”

“ _Bullshit_ ,” Khione hissed, though she moved to place a hand on G’raha’s shoulder. He released the hyuran man and returned to his Little Bird’s side, wrapping his arm around her waist in a move that was nothing short of purely possessive.

“I saw the video. Someone sent it to me.”

G’raha, Estinien, Aymeric, _and_ Sollielle snarled like rabid animals.

“So what? You decided you’d come and see what a mess it turned me into this time?”

The ice in Khione’s voice was enough to give anyone frostbite, and G’raha couldn’t help the little pang of pride he felt, watching her tower over the man who’d nearly destroyed her life.

“Why would I want to do that, Khio? I still lo—”

“ ** _Don’t_**.”

She turned to look at Sollielle with eyes as cold as an Ishgardian winter.

“I’m spending the night at Raha’s. This apartment smells too much like _him_ ,” she sniffed, barely inclining her head at Hien. “Feel free to torment him, although please don’t do anything to land yourself in prison.

That was that.

Five minutes later, G’raha and Khione were walking back towards the Aethernet Station.

He wanted desperately to punch something, to destroy, to rain down his anger upon anyone else who dared hurt Khione.

Wicked White, he was still furious about Zenos trying to grab her yet again, and now her ex was showing up unannounced? It was amazing she was still coherent.

They didn’t speak until she had tossed her bag onto one of his (many) guest beds — for the illusion of propriety, he supposed — and even then, it was only so that she could ask him where she might take a shower and have a bit of a think.

G’raha spent the next thirty minutes pacing like a nervous house cat waiting for his mistress to return. A house cat in a pair of sweatpants and an old Sharlayan U t-shirt. He shamelessly stood right outside the guest bathroom once he heard the water shut off.

Khione emerged, wrapped in a large body sheet towel G’raha had found for her, looking weary and small. Gone was the howling blizzard of her wrath, replaced by a near-frozen heart. She leaned her forehead against his chest, just standing there for a moment before turning and walking back to his room.

She pounced on him the moment he walked through the door, her towel falling to the ground. The sight near took his breath away, and the primal, hungry part of him roared to _take, take, take_ , but he refused. Not like this. Not now.

He said as much with his arms, holding her tight to his chest instead of voraciously wandering over every ilm of her form.

The look she gave him reminded him of an injured bird.

“You… you don’t like what you see?”

G’raha sighed, giving her a sad smile. He reached for one of her hands, pressing a kiss to her knuckles before guiding it to the prominent bulge in his jeans, and then to rest above his heart.

“I very much like what I see, Khione. More than I ever believed I’d like another’s body.”

“Then why…?”

“Because you’re angry and upset and scared, and I am not going to take advantage of you right now. Not when you’re feeling so vulnerable. I swore that I would care for you and support you, no matter what. Right now, that means saying no to my own natural urges.”

Khione blinked at him a few times, then nodded slowly. “May I at least have another kiss?”

G’raha smiled, ducking his head to fulfil her request. “You may have as many kisses as you’d like, my beautiful, brilliant, stunning Little Bird.”

She nodded again, scowling. “I got your shirt all wet.”

G’raha chuckled, stepping back to remove his sodden shirt. “You just wanted to see me shirtless.” 

“It’s only fair.”

So clever, his Little Bird.

“Khione…. May I touch you? I-In a non-sexual way, I mean.”

Khione tilted her head, then picked up his hand to rest it above her own beating heart. 

His fingers traced across her collarbone reverently, noting the lean muscle of her shoulders and arms built from years of dance and martial arts. So small, and yet so strong, this tiny storm of a woman.

Next, he allowed himself to explore her sides, the delicate trail of her spine, the soft curves of her hips that taunted him and entranced him. 

He did not dare explore any lower for fear that his control might snap, but he whispered a promise of ‘one day,’ against her ear with a soft kiss and a teasing nip of her earlobe that sent shivers through her. 

With a long, querying gaze, he silently asked permission to explore her pale breasts; his intention was not to arouse, but merely to learn and explore, to burn the shape of her body into his mind and heart so that, when the day finally did come that they might be intimate, he could bring her to the very heights of the heavens without any of the fumbling of new lovers. They were full and heavy in his hands, warm and soft, and he made sure to press a chaste kiss above each before returning to her lips with unfiltered, unadulterated _love_.

Her touch, likewise, was feather-soft and curious as she explored his torso. She marked every little scar from boyhood accidents, and traced the designs of his tattoos with her nail. With every ilm they discovered of each other, it appeared to G’raha that the tension and anger that buzzed around them eased into the comfort of one another’s presence.

They would have to deal with the difficult things in the morning; the terrifying encounter of that afternoon, the anger of the evening, the boundaries of intimacy they needed to set between themselves. That could all wait until the sun rose once more. So long as the moon hung full and high, G’raha was simply happy to hold Khione and protect her from the hurts of the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> Song is 'Shake It Out' by Florence + the Machine.
> 
> If you're a writer and/or reader of FFXIV fanfiction, and you want more awesome content, come join us at Emet-Selch's Wholesomely Debauched Book Club! https://discord.gg/ShMwvS


	10. Renegades

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorks being domestic.

**Two Months Later**

As she often did these days, Khione woke up in a cloud of blissful oblivion that sanded the edges of her jagged emotions from the previous day into smooth clarity and tranquillity. She did her best to ignore the novel of a text that Sollielle had sent her overnight, as well as the barrage of texts from Zenos.

G’raha snored lightly beside her, still deep in sleep’s gentle embrace. Khione allowed herself a moment to watch him, to appreciate the soft boyishness of his face. One of his ears twitched and flickered as he slept, and Khione had to bite her lip to stifle the fond giggle that tried to bubble out from her. She loved these quiet moments when she could forget the insanity of life, and just focus on appreciating the simpler things like the way her boyfriend purred in his sleep. She’d been worried they were moving too quickly when he invited her to move in with him following Hien’s unannounced arrival, but those worries had disappeared as she and G’raha had fallen into comforting routine, continuing on with their own individual lives while also learning to share with the other. The fact that they’d had Starlight Break apart only a moon after that awful day had certainly helped — as had G’raha’s surprise visit to Ishgard on the eve of the Starlight celebrations for Khione’s name day. Khione had returned to Norvrandt City two nights previous, and it was like coming home.

With a sigh, she slid from her partner’s arms, shivering as cold air hit her, and set about sending emails to various and sundry people before disappearing into the closet to choose an outfit for the day.

She was just finishing the process of tying the laces of her oxblood tapered-heel booties when someone knocked on the front door of the apartment. Khione glanced back at G’raha, shaking her head with a silent chuckle upon finding him still happily asleep.

On a dancer’s practiced tiptoe, she went to answer the door, smiling at the Viis on the other side.

“Oh, hello,” the leporine woman murmured, fixing Khione with a wary, curious, polite smile. “Is, ah, Raha in?”

Her voice was richly, if subtly, accented in a way that made Khione both relax and stand to attention all at once.

“He’s still asleep, I believe,” Khione whispered.

The Viis pursed her lips thoughtfully, studying Khione up and down.

“Khione, I presume?”

“I…. Yes. You must be Lyna?”

“That is correct.”

The acknowledgements seemed to make both women relax, and Khione stood aside to offer Lyna entry. 

“Please, come in. I was just about to make coffee.”

Lyna ducked her head and followed Khione into the apartment, shutting the front door behind her.

They remained in silence for a few moments until Khione realised that she had no idea where G’raha kept anything. It earned her a teasing smirk from the Viis.

“Mugs are kept in the cabinet directly to the left of the stove, and the pantry is beside the refrigerator.”

Khione nodded gratefully, setting about gathering the bag of coffee and three mugs. Thankfully, she knew how to use the coffeemaker.

She could feel Lyna studying her, questions brimming from the Viis like sparks of levin.

“You do not smell like you’ve been intimate with him yet,” Lyna finally mused, moving to the fridge to grab a carton of eggs, a package of fruit, and some sausage patties. She moved efficiently around the kitchen, and before Khione had a chance to even react to the blunt statement, the Viis had begun cooking eggs on the stove while the coffee brewed.

“I-We-Uh-No?” Khione stammered, blinking rapidly. “I mean, you’re correct. We haven’t.”

“It is probably for the best. Raha can be reckless with his emotions.” Lyna’s tone had Khione bristling slightly.

“What do you mean?” she huffed, trying her best not to pout like a child.

“I do not doubt that you are a good person, Khione North, but I worry that Raha is rushing into whatever it is that is between the two of you without fully thinking.”

Khione said nothing, thinking on the words.

“I do not mean that as an insult to you,” Lyna continued, piling the first batch of scrambled eggs onto a plate. “I am simply looking out for my friend. Do not let this relationship progress unless you are certain about it.”

Pale lavender met moon silver, both full of sharp edges and the guardedness of a soldier.

Khione brought herself to full height, the tilt of her chin proud and determined. “I have not known Raha for very long, it is true, but I have  _ never _ been more certain about something in my entire life than I am about him. I understand that you care for him — he’s spoken often about your friendship and what it means to him — but please trust that I care for him as well. Now, how do you take your coffee?” She punctuated her words with a polite smile.

Lyna answered with something like pride and approval in her own smile. It seemed that Khione had passed whatever test the Viis had laid for her.

“Black with two scoops of sugar, please. Do you eat sausage?”

Khione grinned, fixing Lyna’s mug as specified. “With a vengeance. It’s one of my weaknesses.”

The tension all but left the room after that, and once Lyna had made a plate of food for herself, the two women sat at the large kitchen table, chatting about martial arts moves after they realised they trained at the same gym-dojo. The clock chimed six and a half bells before G’raha shuffled into the room, tail swishing lazily as he followed the scent of sausage. He gave Lyna a sleepy nod, then leaned down to rest his chin on Khione’s shoulder, purring softly before stealing a sausage patty.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Lyna teased, smirking at the miqo’te, apparently unbothered by his lack of a shirt.

Khione scowled without any real edge. “Get your own, you beggar. This breakfast is mine.”

G’raha simply kissed her cheek, then began fixing himself a cup of coffee and a generous plate of food. Khione watched him shamelessly, admiring the lean muscles of his back, the proud, easy grace with which he carried himself, the firm ass. The knowledge that he was all hers brought a little smirk of satisfaction to her face.

“I don’t remember inviting you to breakfast,” G’raha mumbled at his friend, pouting over his shoulder at the two women seated at the table. 

“You weren’t answering your tomeStone,” Lyna sighed. G’raha pulled his device out of his pocket and scowled, then looked at Khione for a moment.

“Don’t you have a meeting today?”

“I decided to take today off,” Khione said with a little shrug and a long sip of coffee. “You’re not going to snitch on me that I’m not actually sick, are you? I figure I’m allowed to skip a meeting with my godsfather.”

G’raha blinked, his ears flattening back a little as he chewed on some toast thoughtfully. “Why would I snitch on you when I could instead spend the day spoiling you?”

Lyna groaned, rolling her eyes. “Can the two of you not do the whole couple thing at the breakfast table? I can smell the pheromones and it is unpleasant.”

G’raha grinned mischievously, and Khione could feel her own mouth quirking into an impish smirk.

“Just because you haven’t met the girl of your dreams yet, dear Lyna, doesn’t mean you get to be grumpy about the ‘whole couple thing,’” the miqo’te teased. “Plus, I’m not technically at the breakfast table.”

Lyna grumbled some more, glaring mightily at G’raha.

The three of them soon fell into easy conversation and banter, uninhibited by the ticking of the clock. Lyna told embarrassing stories about G’raha’s failed attempts at dating — including the time he’d tried to ask her out — while G’raha wowed them both with his impressive knowledge of hilariously erotic Allagan poetry and his pancake art skills. By the time Lyna finally left with promises to meet them later that night for an evening out at The Crystarium, Khione’s face was hurting from smiling so much.

“She’s lovely,” the hyur noted once the door was shut. “Reminds me a bit of Sol.”

“We’ve been friends since undergrad. She was the youngest person in my statistics class, and had a bit of a hard time making friends. That’s what you get when you’re a fifteen-year-old in university.”

Khione’s brows shot up in surprise, and she cocked her head, curious, earning a rich, smooth chuckle from G’raha.

“Lyna’s something of a prodigy. She was orphaned at a very young age and grew up at the orphanage that’s a few blocks from here. Chessamile, the headmistress, encouraged her love of learning very early on, and Lyna was able to skip over a number of grades,” he explained, busying himself with cleaning the kitchen. “We were both what you might call ‘outsiders’ and so we kind of just stuck together.”

Khione smiled, nodding in understanding. After a few moments of comfortable silence, her mouth quirked into a playful smirk. They walked back to the bedroom, basking in thoughtful silence.

“So, what’s this about spending the entire day spoiling me?” she hummed. Hunger roared in her like a caged lioness at the way G’raha’s eyes travelled slowly up her body, his tail swaying lazily. Khione was not prepared for what he said next.

“I’ll tell you only if you tell me what you’re not telling me.” His voice was tight with concern, even as he smiled softly at her. “You only wear those trousers when you want to distract me from the fact that you’re hiding something. It’s either Zenos or Hien, right?”

She both loved and hated how closely he paid attention to her, the way he saw through her every smokescreen and attempt at bravado. Sighing, she stood and slowly walked over to him, reaching up to cradle his face before pulling him down for a gentle kiss. “I’ll tell you while you get dressed. Your lack of shirt is  _ highly _ distracting and I’d rather not taint the lovely sight with less than lovely words.”

Khione kicked off her shoes and wrapped herself in the blankets on G’raha’s side of the bed, getting comfy while her lover disappeared into his closet.

“Hien is still living at the apartment. I think Zaerise and Estinien are having fun keeping him in suspense.”

A shiver ran through her at the feral, possessive noise that tore through the air between the bed and the closet. “I still can’t believe he just moved in like it was no big deal after you made a point of moving out.”

Khione groaned in exasperation. “I know. It’s like he thinks I’ll come running back to him if he inhabits my former bedroom. Hrmph. Joke’s on him.”

G’raha prowled out of the closet, tugging the hem of his white t-shirt over the top of his black joggers. He grabbed a red plaid shirt from where it draped over the edge of his desk — no doubt discarded during one of their many makeout sessions that always seemed to end in G’raha losing his shirt and nothing else — and tied it around his waist, then pulled the rolling chair towards the bed, straddling it.

“You still smell like him every single time you come back from having dinner with the others. It’s faint, but it’s there,” the miqo’te grumbled. Something distinctly  _ male _ glinted in his striking red eyes, hungry and jealous and protective. Khione tried to focus her mind on thoughts of cold showers, Hien’s stupid face, Estinien’s armpit hair, toe fungus, and the like. It only barely worked.

“It’s not my fault the shit head got pickpocketed at the Aetheryte Plaza. I hate having to smell his stupid cologne just as much as you do.”

“Hien still living at the apartment is not what’s bothering you.”

Khione huffed in bitter amusement as she leaned forward to card her fingers through G’raha’s soft hair.

“They finally let him try to explain himself last night. Sol sent me a text in vivid detail — I’m pretty sure she recorded the conversation and then used a transcribing programme to convert it into text.” She buried her nose in the warm space between G’raha’s ears, breathing deeply to steady her racing heart and spinning head, allowing the scent of cedar and mists and sandalwood, the scent that she loved so dearly it made her heart clench and ache, to anchor her to the here and now.

G’raha shifted, and Khione sat back to allow him to look up at her, their eyes meeting in silent conversation.

_ ‘You don’t have to tell me any more or any less than you feel comfortable with,’  _ his eyes seemed to say, gentle and warm like a crackling fire in midwinter, edged with the danger of rage that he kept at bay for her sake.

Khione was quiet for a moment, frowning down at the sleeping tomeStone clutched in her hand.

“He didn’t send that text,” she murmured, eyes cold as distant stars in the winter sky.

**The Night Previous**

Sollielle was  _ tired _ . She had been travelling all damn day, waiting in hours-long lines just to spend five minutes using Aetheryte crystals so she could get from Ishgard to Norvrandt City. Her brain felt fuzzy, not helped by the gnawing hunger in her stomach.

Dropping her bags in hers and Aymeric’s room, she trudged to the kitchen, praying that S’zala, who’d returned a few days early for a job interview, had remembered to go grocery shopping. 

“Oh, mother _ fucker _ ,” the elezen swore when she noticed Hien leaning against the counter by the sink, munching on a bowl of cereal. She turned to leave, grumbling, but Hien had crossed the room in three large strides, and reached out to catch her by the wrist.

“Sollielle,” he sighed, fixing her with an equally tired stare, “this is getting to be a bit childish, don’t you think?”

Sollielle blushed in shame to the tips of her tapered ears, scowling. “My best friend in the entire world had her heart broken multiple times because of your thoughtless, selfish actions. I think I’m allowed to not want to be around you.”

“By all means, but the fact remains that I do now live here as well, and you cannot avoid me forever. All I ask is to be allowed to share my side of the story eventually, and maybe we can all return to being at least civil.”

Sollielle shifted her weight to one hip, giving Hien a seething glare. “Fine. You want to share your side of the story? Go ahead. You have until I finish eating.”

She yanked her arm out of his grasp and flung open the refrigerator doors, glad to see it fully stocked. Behind the barrier of the fridge door, Sollielle took a moment to set her tomeStone to record. She grabbed a package of pre-cooked ravioli, along with a tub of ricotta, and set them on the counter near the stove.

Hien began speaking as she filled a large pot with water.

“All of you keep saying that I was the one who ended things with Khione. Something about a text?”

“‘I’ve found someone else. I’ve been seeing her for moons because I can’t handle your moods anymore. We’re over,’” Sollielle recited, spitting out the words as though they physically pained her to repeat.

Hien nodded solemnly, frowning. “I never sent such a message.”

“Bullshit.” Sollielle grabbed half of a loaf of focaccia from the fridge and drizzled it with olive oil, garlic, cheese, and oregano, before slipping it into the toaster oven.

“Sollielle, I can’t make you believe me, but truly I did not send such a message.”

Sollielle snarled, whipping out her own tomeStone. She scrolled through it furiously before thrusting it in his face. It was a screenshot of a thread of messages:

_ Hien: ‘I’ve found someone else. I’ve been seeing her for moons because I can’t handle your moods anymore. We’re over.’ _

**_Khione:_** **_‘Don’t ever speak to me again.’_**

Hien’s face blanched, confusion knitting his brows. 

“Are you sure about that, Hien? This is pretty damning, and before you ask, no, no one doctored it. That message was sent from your tomeStone the day after Khione checked into a fucking rehabilitation hospital to get help for the damage that  _ you _ helped cause. That bloody fucking text nearly cost her, her life, so don’t you dare try to tell me you didn’t send tha—”

“By the Kami…. Sollielle,  _ I _ didn’t send that message, but I think I know who did.”

Sollielle fought the urge to drain the boiling pot of pasta over Hien’s stupid head. “Go on….”

Hien scrubbed at his face with broad hands. “Lyse, the girl I was….”

“The skank you were fucking, I know.”

“Yes, her. That morning, I left my tomeStone by the bed when I went to go shower. When I got out, Lyse was playing on it. I didn’t think anything of it, especially after I got Khione’s message.”

With an eerie calmness, Sollielle carefully mixed her steaming pasta with a touch of the olive oil and a generous helping of ricotta before taking her bowl and plate over to the table.

“There’s sparkling strawberry wine in the fridge. Grab it, will you? Glasses are to the right of the stove.” It was not so much a suggestion as it was a command.

Sollielle ate her food daintily, savouring each bite of pasta and each sip of wine as though she had all the time in the world. The food was made all the tastier by the fact that Hien looked like he was facing a firing squad.

“Tell me,” the elezen finally drawled, dabbing at the corner of her mouth with her napkin. “Why are you here?”

Hien sighed, setting down his wine glass. He closed his eyes for a moment, schooling his breath into tranquillity, before looking back up to meet Sollielle’s gaze.

“I still love her.”

**The Present**

G’raha  _ snarled _ , a hideous, furious, possessive noise that sent shivers down Khione’s spine to pool and coil in her core, anchoring her back to their bedroom in The Crystal Tower Apartments. Khione resumed running her fingers through his hair, letting silken strands soothe her ragged nerves and jagged edges.

“This is just like him,” she mused, leaning over to kiss the tip of each of G’raha’s ears, smiling when they flicked and tickled her cheek. “No one’s ever said ‘no’ to him in his entire life until I sent him that text. He’s not a bad guy, just spoiled and a little lacking in common sense.” She gave a bitter chuckle. “I suppose younger me had a type.”

G’raha huffed a similarly bitter chuckle, even as a small purr rumbled through him when Khione began to gently scratch behind his ear, the tension leaving his shoulders. Under his girlfriend’s skilled ministrations, he was no better than a spoiled house cat, and they both knew it.

They were silent for a few moments save for G’raha’s soft purring and Khione’s quiet humming.

“Your desperate ex-boyfriend aside,” G’raha finally murmured, tilting his head up to smile at Khione, “are we still going to The Crystarium with your friends tonight, Kiki?”

Khione giggled, kissing G’raha’s hairline. “Only if you want to, Raha. I’m fine going alone if you just want to stay i—”

“And pass up a chance to dance with the prettiest girl on the entire Star? Hells no.”

He winked playfully at her, tail swishing behind him, and Khione couldn’t help the blush that bloomed on her cheeks.

“And if I said that my desperate ex-boyfriend is going to be there?”

“Then I’d tell you that I want to be there so I can watch you completely shut him down.”

Truly, Khione wondered, what had she done to deserve such a wonderful man?

“You still haven’t told me how you intend to spoil me,” she said, sliding off the bed to stand beside him, trailing her fingertips across broad shoulders. She had a few ideas as to what she  _ hoped _ he was planning, and all of them involved him losing his shirt. “Does it have something to do with how you were complaining about Hien’s scent clinging to me every time I come home from visiting my friends?”

G’raha’s eyes turned molten and hungry, and Khione knew she’d been right in her thinking.

“Take off your jeans.” Khione raised both brows in surprise, staring down at him for a few moments, even as arousal coiled behind her navel. She wasn’t entirely sure how to react. Thankfully, she didn’t have to because G’raha sighed, smirking, and reached up to hover his fingers over the buttons on her jeans. “Perhaps you’d rather I do it for you?”

Khione threaded her fingers through his fringe, giving a definitive nod. “If you would be so kind.”

He made quick work of the buttons, and happily ducked his head beneath the hem of her blouse to bury his face against the soft skin of her bare stomach, leaving kisses from where her ribcage parted down to just below her navel, his hands helping her push the jeans off of her hips and into a puddle on the floor.

“Bra next,” G’raha murmured, hands moving up Khione’s sides and behind her to unclasp her lacy lingerie. Khione thanked the Twelve that she’d decided to wear a strapless bra that day, and she was more than happy to watch G’raha discard it on the floor next to her jeans.

“Shirt off,” she smirked with a hunger to equal what she spied in G’raha’s eyes, gaze lingering on the prominent outline of his cock pressing against the flimsy fabric of his joggers. He graciously obeyed.

“It’s rather chilly in this room, Little Bird. Let’s continue this in the bed.”

It felt like rebellion and freedom, skipping meetings to spend the morning in bed with her lover, escaping the perils of daily life to hide in the safety of lust and youthful recklessness. Khione wished she could spend every day like this, entwined with G’raha, body and heart and soul.

Somewhere, distantly, music played on one of the wireless speakers in the kitchen, white noise near-buried beneath the buzzing excitement in Khione’s head.

_ ‘Run away with me/ Lost souls in revelry/ Running wild and running free/ Two kids, you and me….’ _

__

__ __ Khione cradled his face in her hands, trying, failing, to read the look in his eyes that threatened to burn through her very soul; G’raha had a way of looking at her like she was a goddess made flesh and priestess made divine, queen and castle, protector and protected, seductress and seduced.

She wanted to whine when he broke the kiss, but all sound stuck in her throat as he kissed along her jaw and temple.

“May I…,” he murmured against her ear, his voice a low, husky growl that sent heat pooling in her core, “may I touch you?”

The tenderness of his words clashed and contrasted with the hands that hunted across her body, hungry, ready to devour.

Khione chuckled, stealing a too-chaste kiss.

“You, of all people, never need ask, Raha,” she whispered.

Suddenly, those hands stopped roaming her body, and Khione was left feeling cold, as though doused by a bucket of ice water, when G’raha pushed her to arm’s length at the edge of the bed, fixing her with a fiery, serious look.

His tone was dominating, concerned, strong, and full of pure love. “Khione, just because I don’t  **need** to ask, doesn’t mean that I  **won’t** ask  _ every. single. time. _ You deserve to be in control of your body, and you deserve someone who will  **_always_ ** respect that fact.”

Khione couldn’t help the tears that welled in her eyes, nor the way her chest felt fit to burst.

She took in a deep, shuddering breath, kissing him deeply, soundly, trying to convey the thoughts her muted voice couldn’t.

“Yes,” she finally managed, grinning, “yes, you may.”

_ ‘And I say hey/ Hey, hey, hey/ Livin’ like we’re renegades/ Hey, hey, hey/ Hey, hey, hey/ Livin’ like we’re renegades/ Renegades, renegades….’ _

__

G’raha hugged her close, then guided her to turn over so her back was to his chest, one hand against her stomach, while the other slipped under her to wrap around her chest.

“There will be time for me to fully explore your body another day,” he soothed as the hand at her stomach trailed down her front to brush against the soft skin bared by the riding up of her blouse, down her hip to feather over the sensitive corner of her pelvis, across the ticklish valley that stretched between her hip bones, then down, down, down below the band of her lacy undergarments to the delicate, wet heat between her legs. His voice was a growling purr, laced with male possessiveness and excitement and desire, when the tip of one thick, warm finger found the arousal soaking her panties, played at the entrance to her core. “But today, I just want to make you come undone on my fingers alone. I want to know the songs you sing when pleasure overwhelms you and drags you over the edge. I want to feel you writhe against my hand, and then I want you to watch while I lick my fingers clean afterwards.”

All Khione could do was nod and pray that he wouldn’t feel her trembling with anticipation. 

She groaned, turning her head to bury her face in the pillow to muffle the noises that wanted to escape her, when G’raha’s finger slowly pressed in while his other hand slipped up and under her blouse to palm one of her breasts, to pinch the hard, peaked nipple; and it was like her body was just beginning to wake up after a years’-long nap. He nipped at the spot behind her ear, where he knew she was most sensitive — a cruel, delightful fact he’d learned over the course of Starlight Weekend when he’d come to surprise Khione for her name day — and gave another of those dominating, feral growls.

“Did I not just tell you that I want to hear every noise you make, Little Bird?”

Khione whimpered, bucking against his hand, but she obeyed the unspoken command in his voice. 

“ _ Please _ ,” she managed, before her voice broke into a little whine. G’raha, grinning wickedly against the back of her neck, kindly obliged, sinking his finger deeper to brush past that spot inside of her that sent stars flying through Khione’s vision. She ground her ass against the insistent hardness pressing through G’raha’s joggers, eliciting a delicious string of swears from the miqo’te.

“Mmm…. Good girl, Little Bird,” G’raha purred, ducking his head to nose along the slope of her neck, biting and sucking a mark at the spot where it met her shoulder. “I’m going to add another finger now. Is that quite alright?”

Khione nodded enthusiastically, a moan escaping her that sounded vaguely like “yes, please.”

“I’d very much like you to play with your clit, Little Bird.” Khione barely heard the request over the lewd moan-wail she made when G’raha’s second finger entered her, the thumb of his other hand flicking her sensitive nipple. “I want to see how you like to touch yourself so that next time, I can do it right.”

With a shaking hand, Khione reached down to gently rub at the pearl between her thighs, her other hand clutching the pillow in front of her face for dear life. She could feel G’raha’s eyes on her, yet her mind wouldn’t stop running, wondering what G’raha might look like when he touched himself. An idea occurred to her. 

She stopped touching herself for a moment and turned over as best she could, to look him in the eyes. It was an effort to not beg him to fill her with his cock when she glanced the feral desire blazing in twin seas of scarlet, and she wanted to cry when he removed his fingers from her fluttering hole.

His entire countenance shifted, concern mingling with lust and curiosity. “What is it?” he murmured, soft and tender —  _ her _ Raha, who looked out for her even when she forgot to, who saw all of the darker pieces of her heart and loved her all the more for them, who would ignore his own needs to remind her that she was allowed to let go, be selfish, and give into her desires. “What’s wrong, Khione?”

Khione smiled. “You said you wanted to see how I like to touch myself when I’m alone. There’s a, uhm, there’s a dildo in my underwear drawer. Would you mind getting it for me?”

G’raha frowned, obviously bemused, but climbed over her and off the bed to retrieve the indicated toy nonetheless. Khione had to fight to keep from giggling at the look on his face when he pulled out the electric-blue dildo. She could see him doing the mental arithmetic — not only was it longer than an average cock, it was  **thick** , and Khione was a  **very** small woman. 

“I don’t mean to make this about me and my insecurities,” he mumbled, fidgeting, “but was I doing something wro—”

Khione beckoned him over, taking the dildo from him with a soft smile.

“Not in the least, silly. I just…. I wanted to see how you — by the Fury, I’m about to sound so dorky, just…bear with me,” her face felt too hot, and her words only barely made sense before they left her lips, but she was going to finish this sentence, else be damned to mire in her own self-consciousness. “I want to see how you pleasure yourself, Raha.”

She fixed him with a determined, blushing stare.

G’raha relaxed, finally climbing back onto the bed. He handed her the dildo, then shuffled to the other end of the bed to lean against the pile of pillows they’d tossed into the corner created by bed and wall earlier.

They both took a moment to avoid each other’s gaze, to bask in the awkwardness of new intimacy, of awakened sexuality and attraction. It wasn’t the first time they’d seen each other in such states, but there was a different current in the air.

Khione was the first to break the silence, giggling a bit more.

“I can’t see if you’re still wearing trousers and pants, Pretty Kitty,” she teased, shedding her panties and blouse.

G’raha flushed a little pink, the colour creeping along the top of his chest, highlighting the tattoos and freckles that marked his neck and shoulder; but he regained his composure, doing his best to make a seductive show of removing the offending articles of clothing.

Khione’s mouth went dry, and her cunt began to leak afresh, at the sight. G’raha was a little longer than average, but holy seven hells, he was  _ thick _ , and it was an all-out battle against the impulse to toss her dildo aside and ride him until they both collapsed. She reined herself in, though, instead crawling over to kiss him gently, encouragingly, running the tip of her nail up the underside of his shaft just to see what would happen.

It was like a switch was flipped, and G’raha panted against Khione’s mouth, taking himself in hand.

“Let me…. Let me watch you take that thing,” he grunted, punctuating his words by claiming another kiss, a deep purr rumbling in his chest. “I want you to pretend it’s my cock you’re taking.”

Khione inhaled sharply, reclining back against the pillows at the headboard to give G’raha a full view.

She hissed through gritted teeth at the pleasurable stretch of the very tip of the bright blue dildo pressing into her, but her eyes remained only on G’raha’s hand moving slowly along the slightly flared tip of his cock. It wasn’t difficult to imagine him kneeling above her, to imagine that it was his tip stretching her entrance, sliding in to fill her.

“ _ Fuck, _ ” G’raha snarled, baring his teeth as he slowly pumped himself, watching her take the toy ilm by maddening ilm.

Khione began to gently rub at her clit with her free hand once the dildo was fully hilted inside her, setting a slow pace on both fronts to draw out the sensations. G’raha matched her movements, his hand moving up his shaft every time Khione pulled the dildo out to the very tip, and moving down his shaft every time she thrust it back in. When she slowly sped up, so did he, both lost in watching the other, in imagining the physical meeting of their bodies. 

She writhed beneath her own ministrations, murmuring his name over and over like a chanted prayer. “ _ Raha, Raha, Raha…. _ ” She knew he was getting close, because she knew she was getting close, her entire body trembling to hold back her orgasm as long as possible.

“I…. I want you to come on me,” she groaned, pleading him with her eyes. G’raha’s eyebrows shot up, a rumbling, purring moan falling from his slightly-open mouth. He didn’t argue, simply clambered over to kneel beside her, eyes still transfixed on the fingers rubbing at her clit, the heave of her breasts, the dildo plunging in and out of her cunt with beautiful, wet noises.

“I want you to come on my fingers, and I want you to scream my name when you come, Khione,” he murmured, leaning over her to position his cock above her stomach, his free hand reaching over to take the dildo from her and replace it with three fingers.

Khione climaxed first.

Her name, whispered like the sweetest lover’s song on his lips, unravelled her, tore his name from her throat like a soprano hitting the highest note in her range. “Raha!”

G’raha snarled and stilled, spilling hot, thick ropes of cum across Khione’s abdomen, moaning her name between heaving, breathy pants. He ducked his head to steal a tired kiss, grinning like an absolute idiot.

“Gods…. That was….”

Khione hummed, dazed, her own expression goofy and content.

“I definitely feel spoilt rotten right now,” she murmured. “But I should go relieve myself so I don’t get a UTI.” She looked down at the mess covering her torso. “And clean up.”

She rolled off the bed with a sigh, disappearing into the bathing room for a few moments.

By the time she came back, G’raha had changed the sheets and even gotten out a new pair of panties for her, and was in the process of pulling on a pair of bright red boxer briefs before sliding back into the (clean) bed with a happy little “ _ Rrrr _ . _ ” _

Seriously, why was he so perfect?

She slipped into the clean undergarments, then into G’raha’s waiting arms. The warmth of his skin was delightful, his scent surrounding her on all sides putting her at ease, the rumbling of his chest as he purred calming and endearing. Gods, she loved this man.

“We should definitely do that again sometime.” G’raha brushed the curtain of Khione’s hair away from her neck so he could leave precious, gentle kisses. She turned over, bracing her hands on his bare chest, savouring the feeling of his skin beneath her hands while she nuzzled along his throat as she twined her legs with his.

“We absolutely should,” she hummed. “I really…. That was…. That was the first time since…. Well, I guess what I’m trying to say is…. Ugh, nothing my head is generating sounds good.” G’raha chuckled, pressing a kiss, then a second and a third, to her forehead, as if willing her brain into action. It worked. “I love you, Raha, and I can’t wait to be more intimate with you in the future.” She hid her face in the juncture of his neck and shoulder, hoping he wouldn’t see her blush.

“I love you too, Kiki, and I can’t wait to eventually go further with you either…. But only when you’re good and ready.” He stroked a hand down her back, soothing and lovely. “Now, I think a nap is in order, and then I was thinking that maybe we could spend the rest of the day reading in the park before I cook dinner for you, and then we dance the night away at The Crystarium?”

Khione kissed him deeply, smiling, heart overflowing with pure affection for this goofy, wonderful man.

“It’s a date, Raha.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! As always, comments, messages, and reviews are appreciated:)
> 
> Song is "Renegades" by X Ambassadors.
> 
> I 100% did not edit this before posting, so just.... ignore dumb typos. I'm tired.
> 
> We'll be back to our regularly scheduled angst next chapter, but I wanted the two dorks to get a chance to just be happy(ish) and domestic.


	11. Entertain You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: The scene at the end of this chapter contains a sequence that some readers might find uncomfortable due to following and Zenos creepery. It does not rise to the level of full stalking or attempted battery, but may still trigger some readers. Please use caution.

**Two Hours Later**

Khione was awoken by warm, soft kisses along the back of her neck and the slope of her shoulder; and by a warm, gentle hand cupping her breast, just resting there without the heat of arousal or desire. It was…comfortable. She was  _ comfortable _ . Happy, even.

“Do you make a habit of waking all of your lovers with such tender touches?” she cooed, placing her hand over his.

G’raha smiled against her skin, huffed a small laugh that warmed her neck and sent shivers skipping down her spine. “Only the ones with long blue hair and the most stunning silver eyes I’ve ever seen.” He suckled her earlobe playfully, his tail and free hand trailing up and down her side. 

Khione twitched and giggled, rolling over to face him, to escape the roving fluffiness of his tail when it brushed the spot just under her fourth rib where she was most ticklish. “Sto-o-o-p!” she shrieked, which only seemed to encourage him further. He tackled her with both hands and his tail, attacking her from all sides with tickles and laughter until she finally rolled on top of his chest, breathless from laughter. Gods, her abs hurt, both from the force of her earlier orgasm, and from so much  _ joy _ . She crossed her arms on his chest, and propped her chin on them to look down into his beautiful, brilliant face, entranced by scarlet eyes that glittered with the reflection of the happiness that burned in her chest. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking, Little Bird,” G’raha murmured, tucking a stray curl behind Khione’s ear. 

She leaned down to steal his lips, a delightful zing running through her at the little groan-purr her boyfriend made. “Mmm…. I’m thinking that that was the best non-sex sex I’ve ever had, and that you, Pretty Kitty, are  _ very  _ skilled with your hands. I’m also thinking that I’m going to be sore for the rest of the day because it’s been quite some time since I saw any sort of decent action, let alone any that was  _ that  _ **_good_ ** .”

G’raha smirked, idly trailing his fingertips up and down Khione’s bare spine, his other arm resting under his head. Despite his bravado, though, Khione could see something small and almost scared dance through his eyes at her words. “Now tell me what  _ you’re _ thinking, Raha, and don’t try to hide stuff. I can tell there’s something on your mind. Best get it out into the open.”

G’raha’s ears fluttered and drooped a little, and Khione felt the overwhelming urge to kiss his worries away.

“Was it…. Did you….” He stuttered and stumbled over his words, looking askance for a moment. “How do I compare with Hien?”

Khione’s brows knit together, her lazy smile quickly turning into a frown. “G’raha Tia, are you feeling insecure about how you compare to my cheating, shit head ex-boyfriend?” She gently cupped his cheek, soothing the pad of her thumb over his cheekbone.

G’raha chewed on his lower lip, his handsome, boyish face thoughtful. He sighed after a minute or two, finally meeting Khione’s gaze once more.

“You were with him for a really long time, and let’s face it: he’s stupidly attractive, and he’s tall, and he’s built like a freaking warrior, and I’m…not.”

Khione smiled fondly, stretching forward to kiss him with the sort of soft tenderness that warmed her heart, and that she wished to share with him. He groaned against her lips, both arms reaching around to embrace her, to pull her close, as he rolled them over, staring down at her with vivid, vibrant intensity.

“I suppose,” he huffed, still frowning down in Khione’s general direction, but not  _ at _ her, “that I’m just worried, with him coming back and all, that you’re going to find me rather…disappointing eventually.”

“Raha….”

“He told Sollielle that he still loves you, and just the thought of that makes me furious and scared all at once, because holy hells, Khione, I  _ adore _ you with my entire soul and heart and body, but when your ex looks like  _ that _ and….”

“Raha, listen—”

“…. He travelled all the way from fucking  _ Doma _ to come see if you’re alright and to try to win you back, and I feel like I can’t compare to him. Don’t even get me started on Zenos, because while the guy’s a complete creep, there’s no denying that he’s built like a fucking god and—”

“ **G’raha Tia, are you going to let me speak or should I let you keep going?** ” Khione snapped, pushing him off of her with an irritated huff.

G’raha blinked, surprised at the outburst, his ears flattening against his head even further. His tail stood stick straight behind him, the fur bristling. “I-I…. Sorry.”

Khione sat up, now placing both hands on either side of his face to force him to look at her.

“I dated Hien for many years, that much is true. Do you want to know how many times in all of those years I let him see the bright blue dildo? Do you want to know how many times I let him watch me touch myself, let him hear me moan his name while I did so?”

G’raha nodded, mute, still just staring at her with mouth slightly agape.

“None. In the six or so years that Hien and I were together, I never trusted him that much even  _ once _ . Honestly, most of the time, when I was touching myself, I wasn’t even  _ thinking _ about Hien. For  **six years** . Raha, even before we started this relationship, for five months, I was moaning your name and thinking of your face while I was pleasuring myself. I was pretending it was  _ your _ cock I was taking instead of a bright fucking blue dildo, for  _ five bloody months until you finally confessed your bloody feelings _ . Do you get what I’m saying? Do you know when was the last time I invited Zenos yae Galvus into my bed? A week before I met you. Do you think  _ he _ ever got to see my bright blue dildo? The easy answer: no.”

She gave him a moment to think, to process, watching as the gears whirred in his mind.

“Raha of the G Tribe, I don’t  _ ever _ want Hien back. I don’t ever want Zenos back. The thought of ever letting either of them back into my life, of even so much as  _ hugging  _ either of them makes me see red and want to punch things. It makes me sick to my stomach. I want  **you** . I love  **_you_ ** , no one else. I will, however, happily blue ball you if you keep comparing yourself to them.”

A part of Khione worried that G’raha might wither under the intensity of her stare, even as she hoped he might rise to the challenge in her voice.

She was not disappointed.

G’raha’s posture changed, flowing from anxious to relieved to confident,  _ dominant, _ as her words sunk in.

“Five months, huh?” he purred, fixing her with that same hungry stare from earlier, the one that sent fire through her veins and made her core feel molten. “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

Oh, she was a goner. Perhaps not that day, or even that week or moon, but the predatory glint in his eyes gave her no room to mistake the fact that this man was absolutely going to  _ wreck _ her. 

“We should get dressed,” she sighed, raking her gaze over his body, letting it linger on the prominent bulge in his pants. “Or else I fear I might never let you leave this bed.”

His answering chuckle was a thing of seductive beauty, but thankfully, he slipped from the bed and disappeared into his closet, giving Khione a chance to go shower and clean herself up.

Thirty minutes later, Khione emerged from the bathroom, tucking the front of her pale blue jumper into high-waisted jeans. G’raha crept up behind her and leaned down to press a kiss to her bared shoulder, wrapping his arms around her midsection.

“Have I mentioned that I love you, Kiki?” he purred. “Thank you.”

She turned her head to leave a peck on his cheek, smiling softly. “I love you too, you big goof. Now, let’s pack a basket for this reading date. Lots of blankets. Also, sandwiches. I’m starving because  _ someone _ got me all hot and bothered, and I worked off my breakfast.”

G’raha’s ears fluttered, his grin reaching his eyes, making them sparkle like brilliant rubies in the late-morning light.

He stole a chaste kiss, then rushed off to go pack said basket while Khione pulled on a pair of tall calf-brown riding boots and a white wool overcoat.

Much of the late morning and afternoon was spent curled up beneath one of the ever-purple trees in Lakeland Park, bundled in blankets and each other’s arms for warmth against the midwinter cold while they read. Khione spent the better part of an hour trying to convince G’raha to let her get a dog, and it was only a distant clock tower chiming five bells that saved the poor miqo’te from having to admit defeat.

With their picnic packed up neatly once more, they meandered to the Crystalline Mean to grab fresh ingredients for dinner — G’raha refused to tell Khione what he was planning to cook, and she didn’t argue with the excited light in his eyes that made her stomach flutter like one thousand hyperactive butterflies.

Their cheeks and noses were bright with cold and laughter by the time they tumbled through the front door of the apartment, dropping bags of vegetables and spices on the counter quickly so that they could resume the making out they’d started while in the elevator.

“We should really get started on cooking,” Khione murmured when, at last, they broke apart, panting and grinning like idiots.

With a sigh, G’raha nodded, shirking off his coat and handing it to Khione before turning to the bags of ingredients discarded on the counter.

Khione chuckled and near-skipped back to their bedroom, taking care to hang their coats properly. This…. She could get used to this. She could get used to lazy afternoons spent reading in the park, to sharing thermoses of hot cocoa beneath purple-leaved trees, to meandering through the markets and looking for the best ingredients for the night’s meal, to being so busy kissing G’raha that they end up riding the elevator three times before finally remembering to get off at the correct floor.

She sat on the bed for a little bit, just lost in thought, smiling softly. The sheets smelled of roses and cedar, blackcurrants and sandalwood. One side of the large desk beneath one of the large, oval windows was covered in the mess of a half-completed thesis and various books on Allagan poetry, while the other side was neat and tidy, a small collection of blue binders and ancient history tomes on display. Next to the closet, two dressers now sat — one a rich red mahogany, the other a pale dusty blue. In the span of a little over two months, this palace of an apartment had become not just G’raha’s, but Khione’s as well; a safe haven for them both. Home.

The gentle sound of vintage jazz music wafted down the hall from the kitchen after a little while, along with the smell of various spices. Khione’s ears prickled a little when she heard G’raha singing softly as he cooked. Kicking off her boots, she wandered back into the kitchen, creeping up behind G’raha to wrap her arms around his midsection. He leaned back a little, smiling even as he continued to sing.

“It smells wonderful in here, Raha,” Khione hummed.

G’raha purred, turning to face her. “Dance with me?” He held out a hand, all suave, gentlemanly charm and boyish mirth.

Khione giggled, taking the offered hand with a curtsey. She squealed gleefully when he pulled her close and led her to simply sway in circles, his nose buried in her hair.

“Today was perfect.” Khione looked up at G’raha with eyes sparkling. Her heart fluttered and melted at the sight of the love and warmth that she found in his face, his handsome, kind smile, his brilliant scarlet eyes. “Thank you.”

G’raha’s answering purr was more of a happy rumble in his chest, and the sound sent delighted chills through Khione’s blood.

They danced like that until their food was ready, breaking the reverie only because of their growling stomachs and G’raha’s excited pride about the recipe he’d made. Over glasses of sparkling strawberry wine, and plates of homemade lasagne and a fresh salad with lemon-raspberry vinaigrette, the two of them laughed and basked in a joy neither had known possible before meeting the other — comfort, safe haven, belonging, peace.

Once dinner was done, the table cleared, the kitchen cleaned, G’raha ducked into the shower, while Khione set to work on her hair.

It was time to get ready for a night out.

**A Few Hours Later**

Khione refused to let G’raha see her until she was fully ready, and honestly, it made him a little worried. She only did that when she was planning to wear an outfit that would test the limits of his self-control.

He’d opted for something comfy and good for dancing in: A soft t-shirt in a deep aqua-cobalt, beneath one of his favourite black hoodies with some gold detailing along the hood, a pair of plain black joggers, a red and white leather jacket, and black and gold high tops.

Khione, on the other hand, had decided to don full armour for all intents and purposes. G’raha didn’t know where to look first, so he started from the floor and worked his way up. She’d chosen a pair of chunky black booties — impossibly high heeled, of course — that laced up the front with ice blue ribbons, and her toned, pale legs were covered in tights that looked like fishnets overlaid on a pair of black silk pantyhose. Her black leather skirt was flouncy and pleated, feminine but with an edge, considering the pair of leather straps — one of them with a nice holster for her tomeStone, ID, and gil card — around her thighs. The top of the skirt was hidden by a black leather corset belt, as was the hem of her sheer, ice blue top that bared her pale shoulders while covering her sinfully lacy black bra. She’d pinned back the sides of her hair, just enough to frame her sharp, striking face; and finished the look off with smokey blue eyeshadow and dark burgundy lips.

In short, G’raha, nor any other male (or female) in this world, stood a chance.

G’raha picked her up by the waist and spun her around, grinning, when he finally gathered his wits once more. “Khione, you look absolutely  _ stunning _ !”

Her peal of laughter was music to his fluttering ears, and he kissed her for all she was worth, unable to keep his hands off of her any longer.

“If I didn’t know any better,” he chuckled, hovering over those dark, delicious lips, “I’d say you were trying to convince me to stay home and spend the rest of the night undressing you slowly.” He smirked wickedly, nibbling on her lower lip. He really was tempted to make good on his words.

Unfortunately — or perhaps fortunately — someone knocked on the front door before either of them could say anything else.

With a happy sigh, G’raha released Khione from his embrace to let her shrug on her own black leather jacket and creamy white wool overcoat.

“That’ll be Lyna,” he chuckled, following her through the apartment to meet up with his friend.

Khione’s tomeStone buzzed, and she pulled it from her thigh holster, letting out a little snort-huff, the emotion behind which G’raha couldn’t entirely figure out. Lyna looked at the two of them expectantly, herself garbed in a pair of black leather trousers, a black collared shirt with red pinstripes — sleeves rolled up, and the front unbuttoned enough to give a cheeky peek at the red lace of her bra — and a pair of black patent leather stiletto pumps that had her towering over G’raha and Khione even more than usual.

She looked them both once over, gave a small nod of approval, and turned to walk back to the elevator.

“Your friends are already at the club?” the Viis inquired, pressing the button.

Khione nodded, looking up from her mobile device.

“They are, and unfortunately, my ex decided to tag along.”

Lyna gave Khione a sympathetic look, and tossed her messy Ishgardian braid behind her shoulder. “Men can be so desperate sometimes.”

Khione snickered, and gave Lyna a conspirator’s grin. “They can be, but occasionally you get lucky and find a decent one.”

“Or you find yourself a nice woman instead.”

Both women chuckled before all three of them settled back into comfortable silence for the duration of the incredibly short walk across the street to The Crystarium.

They were met at the coat check by Khione’s friends, and the moment G’raha saw the way Hien was brazenly ogling Khione, he scooted closer, all but gluing himself to her side. For good measure, he threw a scalding glare at the hyuran male. Hien, wisely, backed off for the time being.

Unsurprisingly, Lyna was chatted up almost immediately, by a pretty dracht woman in a seductively short dress. G’raha gave his friend a wicked grin and wished her well, making her promise to call if she needed anything.

The seven of them — plus Hien — claimed a large booth tucked away from the main dancefloor by a curtain and a corner. Once the drinks were ordered and brought to the table, conversation flowed like a river, everyone asking about each other’s holiday break, teasing Khione and G’raha about what life must be like in their palace of an apartment, the usual bawdy jokes that came with warm familiarity. Hours passed in a haze of silly stories and comfortable comradery. It was almost enough to make G’raha forget about Hien lurking in the corner, glowering as he sipped at a pint of ale. 

Until Hien got a bit too bold.

“Khione,” the man started, rising to stand, “may I speak with you a moment?”

To everyone’s absolute surprise, “Yes. I was just thinking that I’d like to go dance a bit. Why don’t you join me, Hien?”

G’raha wanted to leap up, to intervene, but the look that Khione fixed him with froze him into inaction, nailing him to his seat.

“We’ll be back in a bit~” Khione trilled, leading her ex away from the group.

Khione had spent much of her life doing what she believed would make everyone else around her happiest. She was done playing nice.

She led Hien to one of the outdoor balcony dancefloors, uncaring of the bitter winter air that nipped and bit at her skin like a scorned lover.

The song starting up felt perfect, electric, driving, angry.

_ ‘Don’t be mistaken, your bloody time’s up, this ain’t no game, we’re not here to entertain you.’ _

__

__ __ She began her siren’s dance, hips swaying along with the beat, one hand held out to Hien.

“For old time’s sake,” she explained, smiling too sweetly. Hien took it, and for a moment, the world stood still. Khione’s mind snarled at how  _ not right _ it felt, even though Hien, damn him, certainly still knew how to dance.

_ ‘Get your fix sitting on your throne/ Want it all and the price, it doesn’t matter/ The world is yours and you think you know, know it all/ I know that smile, so I should’ve known/ You sold me out for a reckless bet, you burnt me/ Off the ground now won’t back down anymore/ No, you didn’t have to burn me.’ _

__

“I’m surprised you’re even deigning to speak with me, Khio,” he mused, following her lead.

She grinned, wicked, cold.

_ ‘You think you own me, but I wouldn’t be so sure/ You’ve won the battle, but you’re gonna lose the war.’ _

__

“Why are you here, Hien?”

He paused, blinking rapidly, and opened his mouth to respond, but she held a finger against his lips, shushing him.

“Why are you  _ here _ ? You know that Sollielle already told me everything, so for all intents and purposes, you’ve given me your message. Why are you here tonight?”

Hien frowned, and it sent a little pang of satisfaction running through Khione.

“I want to help.”

Khione cocked a brow, looking decidedly unamused. “Help? Why would you ever presume that I would ever want your help after everything your selfishness put me through?” She tilted her head, a bird of prey assessing a mouse.

_ ‘Go to hell, I’m not here to entertain you/ Just walk away or face the showdown/ I won’t bow, I don’t care about the bleeding/ ‘cause my freedom’s undefeated/ My soul on fire, burning desire/ Make no mistake ‘cause the stakes are getting higher/ Go to hell, I’m not here to entertain you/ I’m not here to entertain you’ _

“Are you happy? With…him, I mean?” Hien finally asked.

Khione’s face softened, her smile fond for a brief moment as she considered his question.

“More than I’ve been in my entire life.” Her smile grew into a refulgent, beaming grin, then relaxed into something tender and loving. “Hien, you were good to me for a long time — in many ways, you completed the broken soul that I was — and I will forever be grateful, but the person I am now? She doesn’t need someone who completes her. She needs someone who  _ complements  _ her. She needs someone who looks at the howling gale inside her soul and runs straight into the eye of the storm. Raha  _ is _ that person, and I love him more than I believed it was possible for me to love anyone. I’m happy and safe and  _ loved _ with him—”

A gentle arm wound around her waist, pulling her close, while a familiar tail brushed along the back of her knees, and the scent of cedar and sandalwood enveloped her.

“And it bears noting that I have sworn to ensure that she is loved and safe and happy for as long as she will allow me in her life,” G’raha’s deep, honeyed voice purred, laced with a very  _ male _ possessiveness. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to dance with  **my** girlfriend.”

_ Gods _ , she truly loved this man.

G’raha gave Khione a few minutes of just…mindless dancing. No words, no questions, nothing, save for the steady  _ thump, thump, thump  _ of the bassline of whatever song was now playing, save for his steady presence. He was more than happy to wait for her to guide him, so long as she let him remain in her orbit.

“It’s absolutely freezing out here,” she finally sighed, turning to wrap her arms around his midsection, burying her face in his chest.

G’raha purred, tail swishing contentedly, and he shrugged off his leather jacket to drape it over Khione’s shoulders, using it as an elegant excuse to hug her close while they swayed to the dramatic song the outdoor DJ had chosen.

_ ‘If I risk it all/ Could you break my fall? / How do I live? How do I breathe? / When you’re not here, I’m suffocating/ I wanna feel love run through my blood/ Tell me: is this where I give it all up? / For you, I have to risk it all/ ‘Cause the writing’s on the wall.’ _

__

They stayed like that for who knew how long, lost in their own world, but G’raha could see the stormy emotions roiling through Khione’s mind.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he murmured, kissing her brow.

Khione looked up with a tired smile, stealing a kiss before pulling away.

“I think I’m gonna go find Sol and the others. I just need some girl time.”

G’raha nodded, watching her go before finding himself a spot beneath one of the many heaters.

“You, my friend, are a very lucky man,” Hien mumbled beside him. G’raha tried not to bristle, tried not to yowl and hiss. Hien apparently noticed, because he chuckled and shrugged. “The lady told me to back off — not in so many words, but I’ve known her long enough to read between the lines. It’s obvious that she doesn’t need me hanging around like some spectre…. Just… take care of Khione. Don’t mess up like I did.”

“I would never dream of it,” G’raha growled, side-eyeing Hien. 

“Good. It makes me feel better that she’s in good hands.”

G’raha lost himself in thought, lost himself in thinking about Khione and that damnably lacy bra and those damnably sinful tights and that damnably short skirt that twirled when she spun; he was certain that any miqo’te, Hrothgar, or Viera in the area would be able to scent the stewing arousal hanging around him like cologne, but he didn’t care. It was hard to care when he knew that, at the end of the night, that tiny, gorgeous woman would curl up in  _ their _ bed and snuggle close in  _ his _ arms, safe and happy and finally at peace with her past.

Hien broke him from his reverie and daydreams, looking worried.

“How long ago did Khione leave here?”

G’raha chewed on his cheek thoughtfully, then glanced down at his watch.

“An hour or so ago. Why?”

“Sollielle’s asking where she is. Said Khione texted her to meet up but never showed.”

Fuck.

**Five Minutes After Khione Left G’raha’s Sight**

Khione tried to push her way through the crowd, searching for her friends.

The music felt too loud, her chest too tight, the bodies all around her too warm, her head too full of so many thoughts.

Someone came up behind her.

“Raha, I thought I told you I needed some girl time,” Khione scolded, still scanning the crowd for Sollielle, Zaerise, and S’zala, as large — too large — hands came to rest on her hips, a matchingly too-large body pressing up behind her. Oh Gods, she knew those hands, that body.

The voice that pressed against her ear with predatory possessiveness was low and silky, and set Khione’s blood running frozen.

“You, my dearest friend, are very difficult prey to hunt.”

Zenos’s voice was far too familiar, and it had every cell in Khione’s body screaming at her to  _ run _ . This was not normal behaviour for him. This was not normal. She’d let her guard down far too much, had become complacent with his sudden silence. She needed to run.

So, she did.

It was a simple evasive manoeuvre — elbow to the solar plexus, heel to the instep. Zenos was built like a fucking brick wall, but Khione’s actions were enough to get him to loosen his grip on her, to allow her to bolt through the crowd.

“Fire!” she yelled, using an old trick her mother had taught her for getting out of such situations. Like magic, the crowd parted, and Khione slipped through the opening with ease…. But Zenos was hot on her heels, she was sure of it. No time to stop and get her jacket and coat, so she simply tugged the sleeves of Raha’s jacket over her arms, and dashed out into the street. 

The simplest course of action would have simply been to run across the road to the Crystal Tower — to home — but that would mean leading this would-be assailant right to her front doorstep, and right to Raha. Like hell was she letting that happen.

Khione sprinted down the street to the bustling Crystalline Mean, weaving through the crowd, hoping to lose the mountainous Garlean.

She slowed to a walk when she thought she was free at last.

Big mistake.

One of those too-large hands closed around her wrist, pulling her to a stop.

He looked bedraggled, bemused, bewildered at her actions, as though he had not followed her all this way.

“Do you not wish to talk to me?" Zenos sighed, sounding almost disappointed, but also amused. "Do you not wish to finally converse with someone who is genuinely your equal? Do you not miss our game, Khione? Surely your bed is cold without me."

Khione froze for a moment, the world tilting as anger took over. Of all the presumptuous, dickish, self-centred—

“Leave me alone!” she snarled, jamming the heel of her palm upwards, making contact with Zenos’s nose — the wet  _ crunch _ of bones being broken was oddly satisfying.

Zenos staggered, then lunged, just as Khione predicted he would, and she used his momentum against him, shoulder-rolling out of his path just in time for him to go crashing into the wall. Just to ensure he wouldn’t be following her again; she whirled and brought the toe of her boot up between his legs with as much force as her petite body could muster.

With the princeling doubled over, Khione took off running again, this time toward the guard station a few blocks away.

Relief washed over her when at last she was safely inside the station, and she immediately made a report with the nice miqo’te sergeant behind the reception desk.

After taking her statement, two lovely Roegadyn guards escorted Khione home to the Crystal Tower, and waited with her while she called Raha and texted her friends.

It wasn’t until she spotted Raha sprinting across the street that Khione finally allowed herself to process what had happened.

And when Raha scooped her up into his arms and held her close while her friends — Hien included — gathered around the two guardsmen to discuss various logistics….

Khione wept. She buried her face in Raha's shoulder, and she wept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song is "Entertain You" by Within Temptation.
> 
> Shout out to Naut, Aulani, Arynn, Epi, Liv, Appy, Kat, Rio, Myhri, and Sparrow for lighting a fire under my butt to get this chapter done! Love my Chaos Club fam!
> 
> -Blue


	12. Ship to Wreck

By the time G’raha finally climbed into bed, Khione was already fast asleep, having sedated herself with an emergency anxiolytic an hour or so earlier.

A pang of feral,  _ male _ satisfaction trilled through him at the sight of his girlfriend curled up in his hoodie and a clean pair of his favourite chocobo boxers.  _ His _ Khione, curled up on  _ his _ side of the bed, wearing  _ his _ clothing with  _ his _ scent, still clutching  _ his _ hand.

He fought the urge to snarl at some unseen spectre of an intruder, at the frantic story Khione had told him.

At the realisation that Zenos yae Galvus was a much bigger problem than she’d let on.

G’raha wasn’t angry at Khione for not telling him. He could understand her reasoning.

He was angry at Zenos for refusing to take the (many) rejection(s) gracefully, for persisting in his pursuit for  **moons** . Khione had showed G’raha all of the texts, FaceSpace messages, uninvited pictures, propositions, and other miscellaneous communications Zenos had sent to her in simply the past moon alone; she’d explained the full scope of how Zenos had begun to permeate her everyday life, unwilling to let go of her when she’d begun to distance herself from him once she and G’raha had started becoming closer.

And then, she’d apologised to him. Over and over and over, she’d apologised, her voice cracking and thinning, the unspoken plea behind those two simple words becoming clearer with every repetition:  _ Don’t leave me _ .

_ “Raha, I’m sorry,” Khione sniffled for the tenth time in as many minutes, looking up at G’raha with fat tears in her eyes. “I—” _

_ “Khione,” G’raha growled, fixing her with a determined stare, his brows furrowed deep. “You have  _ **_nothing_ ** _ to apologise for, so  _ **_stop_ ** _.” _

_ Khione froze at the dominance in his tone, her lower lip trembling. _

_ “I’m not angry at you,” he continued, softening his voice. He reached out to cup her face gently, wiping away her tears with the pads of his thumbs. “I’m angry, yes, but not at you.” _

_ G’raha’s heart broke at the expression on Khione’s face, like she was just waiting for him to change his mind, to kick her to the curb and wash his hands of her. Instead, he pulled her close, crushed her against him, buried his nose in the crown of her head, and rubbed her back soothingly, a deep purr vibrating in his chest. _

_ “I would very much like you to tell me  _ **_everything_ ** _ about the situation with Zenos, Little Bird, but only so that I can help you and support you as best as possible. We’ll get through this.” _

_ It took Khione a little while to dry her tears, during which time G’raha made them both cups of raspberry-white chocolate hot cocoa, and helped Khione out of her clothing, into a pair of his boxers and his Sharlayan University Archery Team hoodie.  _

_ Once he’d finished turning off the lights in the rest of the apartment and going about the usual shutting-down-for-the-night process, G’raha climbed into the bed and held out his arms for Khione, who didn’t hesitate to almost dive into them. _

_ She settled in next to him, so close that she might as well have been actively sitting on him — not that G’raha minded. _

**_‘And oh, my love, remind me, what was it that I said? I can’t help but pull the earth around me to make my bed. And oh, my love remind me, what was it that I did? Did I drink too much? Am I losing touch? Did I build this ship to wreck?~’_ **

__ _ “It started off as just a one night stand,” Khione began, rolling her eyes at whatever memory flashed through her head. “Hien and I were on a break, I was partying hard and being self-destructive, and you already know all of this stuff.” _

__ _ G’raha nodded, hugging her close. Khione idly stroked his tail, lost in thought. _

__ _ “I…. I wasn’t used to sleeping alone at that point, and Zenos made his interest in me clear as fucking day, and so I kept inviting him back into my bed just because I didn’t want to be alone with only my thoughts to keep me company; right up until the day I checked into rehab and started trying to piece my life back together, I’m ashamed to admit that I led him on, let him spend most nights with me.” _

__ _ She shrugged, running her other hand through her hair to push it tiredly from her face. _

__ _ “I maintained no contact with him for the entire year I was an inpatient at the rehab hospital, but once I got out and had to actually face my reality again, I found myself oscillating between not wanting anything to do with him, and just being desperate for the attention. I’d go a moon or two without responding to any of his messages, but all it would take was one shitty day, and I’d be waiting at the Aetheryte Crystal Station in Revenant’s Toll for him for a weekend of getting my brains fucked out.” _

__ _ G’raha hissed, baring his teeth, ears flattening, tail bristling, at the statement, unable to contain the reaction. Khione tried to shrink away, but he instead pulled her closer, pressing a kiss to the top of her head in silent comfort. “How did he end up in Norvrandt City?” _

__ _ Khione sighed, fiddling with the handle of her mug. “He’s actually getting his MBA here.” _

__ _ G’raha blinked while trying to picture Zenos — long, blonde hair with half of his head shaved, multiple piercings in his ears, eyebrows, nose, and even his tongue, scary biker-dude aesthetic Zenos — doing anything so...normal. _

__ _ Khione seemed to pick up on G’raha’s confusion, because she huffed a little laugh and nudged him gently. “You do realise that he’s the heir to Garlean Magitek Enterprises, right? You know, the same company that invented tomeStones?” _

__ _ “Yes, Kiki, I know Garlean Magitek,” G’raha pouted, poking her in the ribs. “I just didn’t expect Zenos to actually take it seriously.” _

__ _ “Well, that’s because he doesn’t. He just doesn’t feel like taking over the C Suite of his family’s company just yet, so he’s stalling by doing this programme.” _

__ _ G’raha nodded. “Right...You were saying?” _

__ _ “I mean, all throughout this sordid affair, even when I was ignoring him, he’d constantly text me, message me on FaceSpace, send me ChatSnaps, that sort of thing. Mostly just harmless stuff — asking me what I was doing, showing off new piercings, inviting me to hang out, that sort of thing — but also he would, and still does, send me unsolicited sexts and dick pix, even after I started telling him to leave me alone and that our  _ **_arrangement_ ** _ was over. The fact that we train at the same gym doesn’t help, and in fairness, I still spar with him every once in a while because it generally earns me a week or two of quiet, but things started getting really bad after I just completely started ignoring him…. After I met you, Raha. I never told him about you, because he’s so fucking nuts that I was worried he might start harassing you.” _

__ _ “Why didn’t you tell me?” _

__ _ The words left his mouth, sharper and rougher than he intended, but there was no taking them back. All he could do was let them hang heavy in the air, waiting for a response. _

__ _ It was a minute or two before Khione spoke, her voice shaky again. “I didn’t want you to think I was encouraging him, or that I was being unfaithful, because I absolutely wasn’t. Once I started getting to know you, I made it explicitly clear to him that he was no longer welcome in my life, except he refused to listen.” _

__ _ G’raha waited, watching, while Khione thought a little more. _

__ _ “And…. I thought that if I just ignored him, just kept stonewalling him, he’d finally go away. I didn’t want to worry you or Sol or the others. So…. Yeah.” _

__ _ They sat in silence for a moment, sipping their cocoa and processing things, before G’raha set his mug down and pulled Khione fully into his lap. He began to purr gently, pressing a kiss to her temple. “You’ve been so strong, Little Bird,” he murmured, “but you don’t have to fight all of these battles alone. Not anymore. We’ll face this together, I promise.” _

He woke up first the next morning, slipping out of the bed on silent feet. Khione remained fast asleep, frowning at her dreams the way she often did. It made G’raha chuckle a bit as he tiptoed out, down the hallway and into the kitchen to begin making coffee and breakfast.

Khione awoke an hour later — 7 AM on the dot, as always — and shuffled into the kitchen to hug G’raha from behind while she reached around him to steal a sausage patty. He half-heartedly swatted her hand away with a smile.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he hummed, turning from the Ishgardian toast he was making to lean down to steal a kiss. “I thought the smell of sausage might rouse you from your slumber.”

Khione huffed, blinking blearily. “The bed was cold after you left it.” She pouted, moving over to grab a mug from the cabinet. “And I smelled coffee, too.”

G’raha huffed a small chuckle, returning to putting the finishing touches on breakfast. “Did you sleep well, Little Bird?”

He set a plate filled with all of her favourite breakfast items down at her spot at the table, along with a bottle of maple syrup, freshly warmed.

Khione nodded, drowning her Ishgardian toast in said syrup. “There’s no such thing as bad sleep with that draught,” she mumbled. G’raha chuckled again, but barely touched his food. He was still far too angry, but also, his mind was elsewhere.

“Whatever plans you had for today,” G’raha growled, not even bothering to hide the dominance and possessiveness in his voice, “I suggest you cancel them. I’d like to spend another day with  _ my _ girlfriend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear things will pick up next chapter.
> 
> Song is "Ship to Wreck" by Florence + the Machine.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	13. I Will Not Bow

**Two Weeks Later**

The first two weeks of classes for the spring semester were, as expected, a blurred flurry of activity. Between commitments to various campus organisations, meetings with professors and Emet-Selch, catching up with friends, and simply getting used to being back in class after the winter holidays, G’raha and Khione barely had time to wish each other a good morning and a good night each day.

By the time the weekend arrived, Khione was thoroughly _tired_ , but in the way that she preferred to be tired — coming down from the high of constant mental movement, looking forward to a morning spent at the gym with Zaerise, Estinien, and Lyna.

Rock music, loud and heavy, blared over the speakers.

_‘I will not bow, I will not break, I will shut the world away. I will not fall, I will not fade, I will take your breath away~’_

_Fwump!_

Zaerise had managed to manoeuver her way out of Lyna’s chokehold, then landed a kick that sent the much taller Viis stumbling back a little.

“Hmph, Zae’s getting better at that move,” Estinien huffed with a hint of pride in his voice. Khione smirked at him, gently punching him in the bicep.

“Just you wait until she whoops your ass, then we’ll see how proud you are,” she teased. Estinien rolled his eyes and removed his towel from where he had it slung across one shoulder, inclining his head toward the other sparring ring.

“Come on, pipsqueak,” he grumped, slipping into the ring, then offering a broad, olive-skinned hand to help Khione up, “let’s see you put your money where your mouth is.”

Estinien lunged first, aiming for Khione’s right shoulder. Smart. Take out her dominant arm before the spar could even truly begin, neutralise her from the get-go. Too bad she was faster and smaller. Khione ducked out of the way, driving her elbow towards Estinien’s core. He blocked her and jumped back.

“You’re surprisingly calm about everything, Short Arse,” the elezen smirked, sweeping his leg in a half-circle to try to knock Khione off her feet. She leapt over it the way one skips rope.

“I’ve had two weeks of quiet, and my boyfriend decided he didn’t mind my extra emotional baggage. At this point,” she hummed, managing to hit him with a right hook, “I am the fucking epitome of Zen.” 

Their spar continued without further conversation. At some point, Zaerise and Lyna finished their own fight and came over to watch, cheering on both Khione and Estinien, and offering tips.

“How did Raha handle things?” Lyna asked, leaning against the side of the ring while she sipped from her water bottle. “Oh, and watch out. I believe that Estinien is about to try to grab you from behind.”

Khione whirled and landed a roundhouse kick in Estinien’s solar plexus, then wrestled him to the ground, her knee on his chest. “I win.” She stood and smiled at Lyna, brushing her leggings off. “He was very supportive. Angry — at Zenos, mind you, not at me — but supportive.”

Lyna nodded, answering with a smirk of her own. “Sounds like Raha. He has always been good at controlling his emotions.”

“Okay, but the real question is,” Estinien snickered, “have the two of you fucked yet?”

Khione spluttered and turned a vibrant shade of red, throwing her sweaty towel at the elezen’s face. 

“That’s a no,” Zaerise hummed, grinning at her boyfriend as she helped him out of the ring. “Plus, Khio-Khio would have already told us by now if they had.”

“She does not smell like they have gone all the way,” Lyna added. “They have done _something_ , but they have not consummated their relationship yet.”

Khione groaned and stomped off toward the lockers, just as the door to the gym opened.

G’raha walked in first, smiling to the others before turning to beam at Khione, loping over to steal a kiss.

Khione, understandably, was too distracted to notice Zenos swaggering in a few seconds later, until she got the distinct impression that someone was staring at them.

Her blood ran cold when she looked to see who it was.

G’raha, sensing Khione’s sudden distress, turned….

…. And _hissed_. Fangs bared, ears standing up stick-straight, tail bristling, anger incarnate.

When Zenos stepped closer, invading her personal space, G’raha jumped between the hulking Garlean and Khione with wrath in his eyes.

“What do you want?” Khione snarled from behind G’raha, standing to come up beside her boyfriend.

“I thought you might be here,” Zenos chuckled, the sound low and seductive. It made Khione feel sick.

“Are you openly stalking her now?” G’raha demanded, drawing Zenos’s attention back to him.

“The real question is,” Zenos began, “why do you care, kitty cat?”

“I care,” G’raha’s words were equally low, laced with threat, “because she’s my girlfriend, and you’ve been terrorising her for far too long.”

Zenos _laughed_. It was a mad, barking, too-loud sound that had Khione cringing and hugging G’raha from behind while they both glared up at the blond.

“ _You_? _You_ are who this gorgeous creature has chosen to spend her time with? _You_ are the reason she decided she was done with me? You’re little more than a kitten without claws.”

It was Khione’s turn to hiss, narrowing her eyes at Zenos.

“I happen to like this _tomcat_ ,” she growled, “because he treats me like a person rather than a _creature_.”

“Touché,” Zenos hummed. “Touché. Is he worth your time, though? He looks to me like he could hardly satisfy a lalafell, let alone you, dear Khione, mentally or physically.”

Zenos leaned down to get in G’raha’s face, so close that Khione, still hugging G’raha from behind, could smell the goulash he’d no doubt had for lunch on his breath.

“What’s so special about you, I wonder?” He turned to look at Khione, grinning. “Does he make you scream the way I used to? Don’t you remember all of the wonderful fun we had with you impaled on my cock? How we could go for ho—”

“ _Shut the fuck up_ ,” G’raha snarled, reeling back to punch Zenos in the jaw. Khione barely caught him in time — punching the heir of Magitek Industries was a decidedly _bad_ idea.

“Raha, don’t,” she snapped, still glaring at Zenos. “Go the fuck away, yae Galvus. I’ve told you a million times before: I’m through with your creepy ass. Take the hint and walk away.”

Surprisingly, Zenos turned and did just that with little more than another dark chuckle.

“Call me when you get bored of your _kitten_ ,” he hummed as he walked out the door.

Khione slumped back onto the bench once the front door closed, burying her face in her hands with a tired groan. “One morning,” she sighed. “I can’t even have just one morning to live my life without something going to shit.”

G’raha moved to stand beside her, resting a shaking hand on top of Khione’s head. “Just ignore that shady bastard,” he growled through clenched teeth. “He’s an ass.”

“I could say the same for you, Raha,” Khione huffed, pulling her bag out of her locker. “I’m just annoyed because I really don’t want to have to find a new gym to workout at.” She stood and stretched, her back popping slightly, then turned to face her companions.

“C’mon, let’s just go get lunch,” she murmured, slinging her bag over her shoulder and heading towards the door.

She didn’t notice G’raha frowning at his tomeStone for a moment.

**Later that Evening**

“Are you going to actually tell me what you are thinking, or are you just going to stare at your cheeseburger all night?” Lyna smirked, crossing her arms over her chest with one brow cocked. G’raha gave her A Look, pouting.

“Where do I even begin?” he grumbled, pushing lukewarm fries around on his plate. His ears flicked and fluttered beneath his black hoodie. “I meet the woman of my dreams — whom I’m fairly certain I’d like to one day marry —, make said woman my girlfriend, things are great, and then first my girlfriend’s well-meaning ex shows up after some random person sends out a damning video from girlfriend’s past to the entire history department, and then it turns out that said girlfriend is also being harassed by her former friend-with-benefits. Oh, and I have a big research presentation coming up, but that’s no big deal.”

“Point taken.” Lyna stole one of G’raha’s fries, still smirking. “But Khione is a strong woman. She seems to be handling things quite well, Raha. Mayb—”

“—I know she’s strong, Lyna, but I can’t just sit by and do **nothing** while she suffers in silence. I promised her that I would support her no matter what.”

“And you are. She does not need you to fight her battles for her.” Lyna looked pointedly at G’raha’s tomeStone sitting beside his barely-touched plate. “She needs you to be her **partner**.”

G’raha sighed, fiddling with the end of his braid. “I just don’t like feeling so _useless_ when I could be doing somethi—”

“Raha, you are not listening. Stop with the male pride bullshit.”

G’raha’s ears flattened to his head, his tail bristling slightly.

“The best thing you can do,” Lyna continued, “is just continue to _be there_ for Khione. She is a fighter, but every fighter needs stable ground on which to stand. _You’re_ her stable ground.”

As much as he hated to admit it, G’raha knew that Lyna was right. “Fine, fine,” he chuckled, rolling his eyes. “But stop stealing my food.”

“Then eat it.”

**Meanwhile, At A Different Restaurant**

“I still can’t believe Aymeric hasn’t proposed yet, Sol,” S’zala huffed between bites of spaghetti bolognese. “I was _sure_ he was going to over Starlight!”

Sollielle shrugged with a roll of her eyes. “Neither of us are particularly fussed about all that ceremony stuff. Between his military obligations and both of us being PhD students, we have bigger fish to fry.”

“You mean _you’re_ not particularly fussed about all that ceremony shit,” Khione quipped, smirking at her friend. She popped a piece of pumpkin ravioli into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully, enjoying the sweet and savoury flavours. “We all know that Aymeric is an upstanding Ishgardian gentleman, and while he’s an avid supporter of equal partnerships and all that shit, he’s also incredibly traditional.”

Sollielle sighed, taking a sip of her wine. “Yeah, yeah, at least I’ve banged the guy I live with.” The elezen turned to grin wickedly at Khione, looking quite pleased with herself.

“Why is everyone so obsessed with the fact that Raha and I haven’t had sex?” Khione scoffed, hiding her blush behind a long sip of wine. “There just hasn’t been a right moment for it.”

“That’s quite valid,” Zaerise mused. “You’ve been through a lot lately, Khio, and I think it’s great that Raha isn’t pushing things.”

Khione smiled softly, tucking a strand of curly hair behind her ear. “I’m not always sure that I deserve him, but I’m grateful nonetheless.”

“Oh, nonsense,” Sollielle tutted, giving Khione a pointed look. “Girl, after all the shit you’ve been through, you **more** than deserve a guy who treats you like a motherfucking queen. Like, he absolutely dotes on you, and it’s the cutest fucking thing ever.”

“He doesn’t _dote_ on me, Sollielle,” Khione sighed. “He’s just very attentive.”

“Uh huh. He tried to punch frickin’ Zenos yae Galvus earlier, Khi,” Zaerise snorted. “That takes cajones.”

“And don’t forget that he travelled all the way to _Ishgard_ over Starlight just to surprise you on your name day,” S’zala added. “Plus, he buys you fresh flowers every week, and he cooks your favourite dinners when he knows you’ve had a busy day, and he’s just very attuned to what you’re thinking and feeling. I’d call that doting, Keeks.”

Khione grunted in defeat, stuffing her mouth full of ravioli.

Sollielle smiled gently, resting her hand on Khione’s shoulder. “You know we’re just teasing you, Kiki. In all seriousness, G’raha’s the type of guy you absolutely deserve, and it’s been amazing to watch you come back to life since you met him. You were making progress before, definitely, but having such a good, stable guy by your side, supporting you, has done wonders. I mean, I’m obviously not saying that you need _any_ man by your side in order to be making progress, but having G’raha around hasn’t hurt.”

Khione huffed a laugh, finishing off her wine. “He is pretty fucking great,” she finally hummed, allowing a fond, wobbly little smile paint its way across her face. “I almost feel like he might end up being The One, y’know?”

“I mean, anyone could’ve told you _that_ ,” S’zala giggled, her ears flickering happily.

“I just hope that all of this Zenos shit goes away soon, before Raha gets tired of the constant drama.” The words were weary, wistful, sincere.

Her friends smiled at her, all three reaching across the table to rest their hands atop hers.

They continued chatting over more wine and dessert, simply revelling in the chance to think about things other than school and personal drama for an evening, and by the time Khione unlocked the front door of her and G’raha’s apartment, her heart felt lighter, and there was a spring in her step.

“Raha, I’m home!” she called, slipping out of her simple black chunky-heeled booties. She tossed her bag on the little bench by the front door, and hung her storm-grey motorcycle jacket on its hook, tucking her tomeStone into her back pocket as she padded back to the bedroom.

Khione leaned against the doorframe, admiring her boyfriend as he sat on the bed, guitar in his lap, plucking out the melody of some Sharlayan folk song.

“That’s a new one,” she hummed, walking over to the bed to join him. “I like it.”

G’raha smiled softly at her, his eyes half-lidded. He leaned down to steal a kiss, a purr rumbling through his chest.

“Have I told you today that I love you, Khione?” he murmured against her lips before stealing another. “Because I do. I love you, Khione North.”

Khione giggled, kissing him back enthusiastically. “I mean, I’ll never say no to hearing it multiple times, Mon Coeur.” All the tension from the morning’s run-in with Zenos disappeared — how could it not when Khione was warm and safe and loved by such a wonderful man? “I love you too, Raha.”

“Did you enjoy dinner with your friends?” G’raha asked, setting his guitar back on its stand by the bed so he could pull Khione into his lap.

Khione nodded, nosing and nuzzling along the line of his jaw. “They say hi. How was your evening with Lyna?”

“Well, she stole most of my fries _and_ half of my cheeseburger, so it was a pretty standard evening,” G’raha chuckled. “I-I’m sorry if it seemed like I was-I was trying to fight your battle for you earlier.” He rubbed the back of his head, laughing sheepishly. “I know you’re strong, Kiki, and I’ll support you no matter what.”

She smiled fondly, cradling his face in her hands as she kissed him soundly. “You have nothing to apologise for. I appreciated the sentiment, Mon Coeur, and we’re both figuring out how to navigate this mess. Just…promise me you won’t do anything stupid, okay?”

G’raha nodded, sealing it with a kiss. “I promise, Khione.”

Khione’s answering kiss quickly devolved into a loss of clothes by both parties, and Khione finally fell asleep content and satisfied on many levels. Her friends and their insistence that she and G’raha needed to fully consummate their relationship as soon as possible could go to the seven hells; Khione was perfectly happy with taking things slowly, with learning every intricacy of G’raha’s body while he learned every intricacy of hers.

G’raha held Khione close, his face buried in her neck, breathing her in for a while, occasionally leaving little kisses along her nape. It wasn’t until her breaths had slowed into sleep that he let her go and reached over to grab his tomeStone from its spot on the bedside table. Frowning, he scrolled through until he found a message from an unknown number, sent earlier, before Khione had gotten home.

_‘I’ll make you a deal, Kitty Cat…One year from today, we’ll have a spar. If you win, I’ll leave Khione alone for good, and you’ll never have to worry about me again. If I win, then you’re obviously not worthy of her anyways, and you’ll leave her.’_

G’raha grimaced, fighting back a snarl. He’d been thinking about it since it’d arrived — how to respond, how to respond….

He looked over at Khione, noted her peaceful expression. He wanted her to be able to fall asleep feeling so calm _every_ night.

_‘You’re on. One year, and then you leave us alone for good.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your patience and support! I love you guys until the stars become shadows <3
> 
> The song is "I Will Not Bow" by Breaking Benjamin.
> 
> Hope y'all enjoyed! Don't forget to leave a review or drop me a message <3 <3 <3
> 
> -Blue


	14. Lovers on the Sun

**Four Months Later**

For the fifth or sixth time that morning, G’raha Tia found himself flat on his back, the wind knocked out of his body, with his girlfriend standing over him and looking decidedly unimpressed. He didn’t know whether to be scared or aroused, and he could tell from her scent that she felt much the same.

“That was...better…,” Khione sighed, reaching down to help him up, “but you really need to stop being so afraid to hit me, Raha. I’m not made of glass, and I assure you that Zenos isn’t going to go easy on you. Also, you’ve gotten into the habit of telegraphing your hits again.”

G’raha groaned, taking the offered hand. “Yes, you keep reminding me,” he grumbled, ears flattening on his head. Khione gave his hand a small squeeze — she could see the way his shorts tented a little — then ducked out of the ring, hopping down to grab her water bottle.

“And I’ll keep reminding you until you get it through your head that this is an absolutely fucking shittastic idea,” she quipped. 

“You know,” Zaerise huffed from where she leaned against against the raised platform of the ring, “there’s still eight moons to forfe—”

G’raha shot the Au Ra a grumpy pout. “Please don’t, Zaerise. I’m not going to call this thing off.”

“Then I hope you’re enjoying sleeping alone,” she trilled, smirking wickedly. “Khio-Khio made holding a grudge into an art form  _ years _ ago.”

“I can confirm that,” Hien added, crossing his arms over his chest.

Estinien, Zaerise, Hien, and Khione had been training G’raha every day for the past four moons — every day since he’d told Khione about his deal with Zenos.

“You guys do realise that I only slept in the guest room for like, a week, right?” Khione chuckled, sweeping G’raha’s feet out from under him in a surprise attack. “Let the poor guy have a bit of a break. It’s been a long four moons for us both.”

**Four Moons Earlier**

_ G’raha woke up before Khione that morning, guilt chasing him from sleep. It’d been a week since he’d agreed to Zenos’s terms, and the reality of that decision was finally beginning to hit him. _

__ _ He had no clue how to fight, let alone win against someone like Zenos yae Galvus. How would he even go about getting training for that? _

__ _ But most importantly, how would he tell Khione about this? He’d lied to her face, made a promise he’d  _ **_known_ ** _ he wouldn’t keep. The guilt was beginning to eat him alive. _

__ _ Khione’s arms winding around his waist broke him from his thoughts, and he plastered a placid, fond smile on his face as he looked over his shoulder at her. _

__ _ “Good morning, Little Bird,” he hummed, handing her a cup of coffee. _

__ _ “Morning, Pretty Kitty,” Khione mumbled, drinking deeply. “You’re up early.” _

__ _ G’raha chuckled, giving a little shrug. “It happens sometimes.” _

__ _ They sat and enjoyed their coffee in comfortable silence, while internally, G’raha was panicking, trying to figure out how to break it to his girlfriend that he’d lied to her, broken his promise, and been hiding it from her for a week. _

__ _ “Are you going to the gym this morning?” he asked, testing the waters. _

__ _ “Hm? Oh, yeah, I should go get ready,” Khione replied, draining her mug. She stood and leaned down to press a kiss to G’raha’s cheek, then dashed back into the bedroom. _

__ _ With a tired sigh, G’raha downed the last of his coffee, and dressed in workout clothes. _

__ _ He was waiting by the front door, ready to go, by the time Khione reappeared, dressed in a pair of dark blue leggings with faux lacing up the side of the calves, and a loose white tank top over a dark blue sports bra dotted with white speckles like stars. She looked up at him, cocking an eyebrow as she finished braiding her hair into a pair of boxer braids. _

__ _ “You going somewhere, Raha?” Khione asked, grabbing her gym bag from its spot beside the door. _

__ _ “I-I…. Well-I…. I was thinking I could go with you?” G’raha sputtered, rubbing the back of his neck. His ears flattened against his head, his tail swaying nervously. _

__ _ Khione gave him a long, questioning look, her lips pursed. “And do what? I’m going to be sparring with the others.” _

__ _ G’raha chuckled sheepishly. “I wanted to maybe learn how to fight?” _

__ _ Khione’s expression deepened, arms crossed over her chest. G’raha knew he was in trouble. _

__ _ “You’ve never expressed an interest in training before. What’s with the sudden change of heart?” _

__ _ Gods, he knew he had to tell her now. _

__ _ He took a deep breath, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “You have to swear to me you won’t react or say anything until I’m finished.” _

__ _ If Khione raised her brow any higher, it would most likely disappear from her face completely, but she nodded slowly.  _

__ _ G’raha took another deep breath, steeling himself. “Zenos texted me last week after our run-in at the gym — I don’t really know how he got my number, but it doesn’t matter right now.”  _

__ _ Khione stayed silent, her expression unreadable. _

__ _ “He-he challenged me to a fight for one year from now. Said he w-w-would leave you alone forever if I won. I maybe sort of possibly accepted?” He gave her his most winning, charming smile before he continued. “I know you’re strong, Kiki, but this is a chance to finally get him out of our lives for good without you having to—” _

__ _ “ _ **_Don’t_ ** _. Don’t even bother finishing your fucking sentence,” Khione said, her voice quiet and cold and limned with frosty anger. She pinched the bridge of her nose, scowling. “Was this before or after you promised me you wouldn’t do anything stupid?” _

__ _ “Well-well he texted me before you got ho—” _

__ _ “I mean your acceptance.” _

__ _ “. . . . After.” His ears dropped along with his shoulders, looking like a kicked kitten. _

__ _ Khione was too silent, too still, and it terrified G’raha. _

__ _ “So let me get this straight,” she finally said with barely-contained rage, “my batshit crazy ex-fuck buddy texted you  _ **_a week ago_ ** _ to challenge you to a fight over  _ **_me_ ** _ , like I’m just some sort of fucking prize to be won; and then you knowingly lied to my face by omitting this particular fact  _ **_and_ ** _ promising me that you wouldn’t do anything stupid as it pertains to the whole Zenos situation;  _ **_and then_ ** _ , despite promising me, you  _ **_still_ ** _ accepted his fucking terms? Am I missing anything?” _

__ _ G’raha shrunk away slightly, stammering. “I-I-I well-well I-I…. You forgot to mention the fact that I did it because I love you?” _

__ _ Khione bared her teeth, visibly trembling. “Bull-fucking-shit.” G’raha reached out for her, but Khione moved away, glaring. “And you didn’t think to tell me this at the time? You didn’t think to consult me at all?” _

__ _ “Khione, I’m sorry,” he whimpered, the words sounding pale and insufficient. _

__ _ “You’re sorry? You’re  _ **_sorry?!_ ** _ Sorry about  _ **_what_ ** _ , exactly? That you betrayed my trust? That you played right into Zenos’s hands? Or that you’ve been caught?” _

__ _ G’raha opened his mouth to answer, but found that he had no words. He stared down at his feet, rubbing his forearms. _

__ _ Khione took a deep breath in, exhaling forcefully through her nose, still pinching the bridge. After a few minutes, she spoke again, sounding only marginally calmer. _

__ _ “Raha, I love you more than anything in this world, but this…. You  _ **_had_ ** _ to have known that this would hurt me. After everything I’ve been through, everything  _ **_we’ve_ ** _ been through, there’s no way I wouldn’t be upset by this. I know you’re doing this out of love and good intentions, but I  _ **_told_ ** _ you that I didn’t want you getting involved with Zenos.” _

__ _ She tugged on the end of one of her braids, chewing on her lower lip. _

__ _ “Is there any way you can back out?” _

__ _ G’raha shook his head, frowning. “I’m not going to risk him harassing you further by forfeiting this.” _

__ _ Khione narrowed her eyes, scowling once more. “I think it’ll be best if I sleep in the guest room for a little while. I love you, Raha, I really do, but this has cut me to the quick. Now come on, we’re late as it is.” _

**Present Moment**

They’d been training like this ever since, every morning on weekends, and for three hours every evening during the week. Lyna sometimes joined them, almost as hurt and disappointed with G’raha as Khione. It was hard and grueling, and G’raha was constantly bruised and sore, but he was making progress. If he was honest with himself, making progress in training had proven easier than making progress in repairing things with Khione. It had taken nearly two weeks after that initial conversation before she’d started talking to him again outside of basic greetings or housekeeping things, and then another two weeks before she’d started showing small forms of affection.

Slowly,  _ slowly _ , Khione’s icy fury had thawed, and while G’raha could tell that she was still hurting, they’d at least begun to work things out. Khione being able to hand G’raha his ass on a silver platter for a few hours every day certainly seemed to help her vent her more negative emotions.

He took a moment to admire her with a small smile. They would get through this, he was sure of it, but he also knew that it would take work from both of them, every bell of every day.

“Right, I think it’s fair to call it a day,” Khione announced, grabbing her gym bag from its spot on a nearby bench. “Raha promised me waffles.” She turned to grin at him, mischief lighting her eyes. Twelve, he swore to himself that he would never take that expression for granted ever again.

He picked up his own bag and slung it over his shoulder before twining his fingers with Khione’s.

“You’re really improving, Raha,” Khione hummed as they walked to the aethernet station. “I  _ might _ even have to reward you.”

“Before or after waffles?” G’raha teased, gently bumping her hip with his own.

Khione responded with a smirk, stopping him beneath the awning of a news store to steal a kiss that lingered and left G’raha feeling decidedly  _ hungry _ .

“We’ll just have to see~” she hummed.

Oh, G’raha liked the sound of that. This had become their new dance — touching and tasting each other, teasing and taunting; heated kisses that ended in both of them panting heavily, finding new ways to bring each other to climax with tongues and teeth and fingers and toys, and even G’raha’s tail on occasion, but never taking the final step. It was driving them both  **utterly** mad.

They walked in silence for a bit, huddled together against the early springtime chill. Khione was downright shivering by the time they made it to the aethernet station, and G’raha chuckled as he draped his jacket over her shoulders, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“Blueberry waffles, or caramel toffee?” he asked, smiling down at her. Khione tapped her chin with her index finger for a moment, thinking.

“Blueberry, with whipped cream and lemon curd,” she mused. “And that’s whipped cream on the  _ waffles _ , not on you.” Her smirk was playful and wicked, and it set G’raha’s blood to boiling with  **hunger** . His ears flickered, scarlet eyes sliding to glance at her in his periphery. They strolled through the turnstiles, scanning their Aether Cards to step onto the platform. The line was long, but G’raha found that he didn’t mind, happy as he was to rest an arm around Khione’s waist to pull her in for another kiss or two. They only broke apart when the Roegadyn behind them cleared his throat loudly to remind them to shuffle forward and stop making out on the platform. G’raha couldn’t bring himself to feel even the least bit embarrassed. If Khione’s boot camp over the past four moons had done anything at all, it was to cure him of how easily he got flustered.

At last, they reached the front of the line, stepping into the Aether Stream together to let the flow of aether teleport them.

They were able to control themselves right up until they got into the elevator at the Crystal Tower Apartments, but the moment the doors slid shut, G’raha dropped his bag to press Khione up against the back wall. He hooked his hands under her ass, lifting her so she could wrap her legs around his hips, her hands flying to tangle in his hair, pulling it from its braid. Their mouths met in a clash for dominance, breaking away only when the doors dinged and opened into the hallway outside the penthouse apartment. Still holding Khione up with one hand, G’raha leaned over to grab both their bags, before shuffling out of the elevator. He pouted when he finally had to set her down so he could unlock the front door.

“I’m going to go shower while you get started on breakfast,” Khione chirped, patting G’raha’s ass playfully. G’raha nodded, giving her ass a little squeeze in return.

It was truly incredible what Khione had done for G’raha’s self-esteem, the way he viewed himself, and even the way he viewed the world. He wasn’t just G’raha Tia, 3rd year PhD student, history TA, hooded dancer guy anymore. When he’d met Khione, he’d been so meek, a holdover from years of being ostracised for his interest in history and civilisation, rather than accepting his place as a Tia in a rural desert tribe. Sure, he’d had lovers before her, but those relationships had rarely lasted long — due largely to the fact that those partners had never been someone G’raha had seen as an equal, or had never seen  _ him _ as an equal. Khione had changed, well,  **_everything_ ** . From the moment he’d seen the young woman, too thin and sad-looking, but with a fire deep in her silver eyes that hungered for  _ more _ ; from the moment he’d seen her, G’raha had striven to be her equal, to uncover that fire, to love her with every onze of his being. He had stopped taking people’s shit, stopped doubting his every move, because now he had someone he cared for in his very soul — someone to love and protect and support and challenge. He found himself wanting to get stronger and better for her sake, but also for his own sake, to become the man she viewed him as. It was why he’d agreed to Zenos’s challenge. G’raha knew he wasn’t strong enough to face Zenos, but he also knew that he owed it to Khione to  _ try _ . His Little Bird had spent so much of her life fighting alone, and—

The scent of blackcurrants and roses tickled at G’raha’s nose as a pair of lean muscled arms wound their way around his midsection, hands resting over his heart.

G’raha turned to smile at Khione over his shoulder, placing his hand atop both of hers.

“Did you have a good shower, Little Bird?” he asked, turning back to gently peel a waffle out of the waffle maker.

“Mhm~” Khione hummed. “It was actually a very productive shower. I think…. I think I have an idea — well, actually, I have two ideas, but I’m only going to tell you one now. It’ll make sense why once I tell you.”

G’raha, having piled the waffles high on a plate, gave Khione a questioning look, concern building in his gut, but led her to the table nonetheless. “What is it, Khi?” he said. His concern only multiplied when Khione suddenly became...shy. Fidgety. She refused to meet his gaze for a few moments, clutching at the necklace he’d given her for Valentione’s Day.

She finally took a deep breath and levelled him with a look of determination...and of love. Pure, open, bright-eyed  _ love _ . 

“I’ve recently been researching miqo’te customs regarding relationships,” Khione began, stepping forward to take G’raha’s hands. She ran her thumbs over the backs, smiling. “It occurred to me — after much scolding from S’zala — that I’ve been a terrible mate to you. G’raha, I understand why you did what you did, and I know that I haven’t made that clear to you. Yes, it hurt me and it angered me that you went behind my back and agreed to Zenos’s stupid challenge like I was some sort of trophy,” G’raha’s ears faltered at that, but Khione kept going, “but the more I’ve thought about it, the more I’ve realised the  _ why _ of it all. I guess…. I guess what I’m getting at is…. I’m sorry. I haven’t been a particularly good mate to you these past few moons, but I am trying. I want us to work through this together.”

Honestly, G’raha stopped paying attention the moment Khione referred to herself as his ‘mate’ the first time.

He didn’t know how long he’d been waiting to hear her use that term, but G’raha didn’t care because now it was out there, and Khione had made official what G’raha had been thinking almost since the first time he’d kissed her beneath his hood at the Crystarium: Khione was his mate.

The waffles were promptly forgotten as G’raha scooped Khione into his arms to carry her back to the bedroom. Breakfast could wait.

Khione squealed in surprise, but didn’t argue — didn’t want to argue. She’d been holding this in for a few months now after a particularly un-relaxing trip to the nail salon with S’zala.

_ “Keeks!” S’zala groaned, facepalming, “how could you be so heartless, making the poor guy sleep alone at all?! Do you know nothing about our customs?” _

__ _ Khione gave S’zala a long look, clearly unimpressed. “Zal, he  _ **_lied_ ** _ to me, he went behind my back,  _ **_and_ ** _ he agreed to Zenos’s shittastic duel like I’m some sort of toy to fight over. I think I’m allowed to be angry.” _

__ _ S’zala sighed, holding up a bottle of hot pink nail polish to examine. _

__ _ “Keeks, I’m not saying that your anger isn’t valid — you’re  _ **_totally_ ** _ justified in being upset and angry, especially given your history, bu—” _

__ _ “But nothing,” Khione snapped, choosing pale iridescent blue for herself. “There’s no excuse for—” _

__ _ S’zala pulled a magazine out of her bag and bapped Khione over the head with it. “I love you, Keeks, but you’re surprisingly dense and stubborn sometimes. I’m not saying that there’s any excuse for Raha’s behaviour, but I think maybe you need to consider why he did what he did, and try to think about things from his perspective. It might help make you feel a little less angry so the two of you can start the healing process.” _

__ _ Khione scowled at her friend, giving the miqo’te an incredulous look. “And why do you think he did what he did, Zal?” _

__ _ S’zala facepalmed again. “You really don’t know much about miqo’te customs and instincts and stuff, do you?” _

__ _ Khione was certain that if she stared at S’zala any harder, she’d end up shooting laser beams from her eyes. _

__ _ “Okay,” S’zala huffed as they went over to choose a pair of pedicure chairs, “first things first: we do the whole ‘mates’ thing, especially if we don’t live in one of the traditional tribes. This means that, when we find our Person or People, that’s it for us. We’re really loyal, but more importantly, we’re  _ **_really_ ** _ territorial and protective. I’d bet you my entire stipend that Raha sees you as his mate — the guy is absolutely devoted to you, and he shows all of the trademark signs of a male who’s found his mate. Like I said, it’s not an excuse, but it might help explain things from his end a bit better.” _

The conversation had stuck with Khione, gnawing at her and making her heart flutter at a thousand malms a minute.

It had taken her a while to figure out how to broach the subject with G’raha, and it hadn’t been until she’d been in the shower that her second thought had occurred to her, giving her the perfect context for this conversation.

She hadn’t expected him to react so enthusiastically, but she also wasn’t particularly unhappy about the result, she thought as G’raha tugged her clean t-shirt over her head, tossing it somewhere towards the desk.

“You really mean it?” he finally murmured against her lips after a thoroughly passionate kiss. “You’re my mate?”

Khione grinned, fingers diving to tangle in her boyfriend’s brilliant scarlet locks. “If you want me to be, yes,” she whispered.

G’raha pulled back, his pupils blown wide, his expression  _ hungry _ , hungrier than it had been all morning. It made heat pool in Khione’s core, her toes curling from the look he gave her alone.

“Are you absolutely sure this is what you want, Khione? There’s no going back, because if you say yes, I’m going to make you mine.  **Right. Now.** ”

Khione moved her hands down to cradle G’raha’s face, nodding softly. Her cheeks hurt from grinning so widely, but she couldn’t stop. “Yes, Raha. I’m sure. I love you, and I want to be your mate.”

Somewhere outside on the street below, someone was listening to some sort of catchy pop tune.

_ 'We're burning up, we might as well be lovers on the sun~ Woah woaaahhhh~ We might as well be lovers on the sun~ Woah woaaahhh~ We might as well be lovers on the sun~' _

G’raha  **_growled_ ** , tossing Khione to the bed. He stripped off his own clothes as quickly as he could, grabbing Khione’s dildo on his way over to the bed. 

“Strip. Now,” he ordered, instincts taking over. “And then I want to see you take this. I won’t claim you until you’re good and prepared, and I want to watch you prepare yourself.” Khione wanted to come just from the sheer dominance in his voice alone.

She took the toy from him once she’d shed her remaining clothing, watching him sit on the rolling chair, which he faced toward her.

Khione nodded, locking eyes with G’raha as she spread her legs wide, planting her feet firmly on the bed, and began to slowly push the dildo into her slick entrance.

“Good girl,” G’raha purred, beginning to pump himself. The tip of his tongue flicked out to wet his lips, and Khione found herself mimicking the action, pushing the dildo farther in. “I want you to imagine that that’s me. Think about how good it’s going to feel when I finally claim you for real, when I fill you and mark you as  _ mine _ .”

Khione moaned softly, murmuring G’raha’s name. With the toy already three-fourths of the way in, she was beginning to feel lightheaded from the pleasure of the picture he was painting with his words. Her other hand reached down to play at her clit, earning her another delicious purr from her boyfriend.

“Ah, and smart, too, Birdie,” he chuckled. “You knew what I was going to ask you to do before I even had to do so. Clever girl.”

She breathed heavily through her nose, the dildo at last fully inside her. 

“Now fuck yourself with it, Little Bird.”

Khione did as asked, setting for herself a rather fast and punishing pace — she was far too impatient to actually take G’raha’s cock to really take this slowly. G’raha seemed inclined to agree, judging by the way he matched her movements with his hand along his length.

They were a duet of sighs and grunts, of whispered names and pleas.

But just as Khione’s orgasm began to turn into a white-hot pressure in her core, G’raha snarled a command for her to stop. She blinked, and he was climbing onto the body to cage her body beneath his.

“You took that rather quickly, Khione,” he crooned, “but I intend to take my time with you, to do this properly…. To love you.”

She orgasmed as he slowly pulled the dildo from her, a combination of his words and her own anticipation sending her over the edge. G’raha merely smiled, and while his demeanour was still rather dominant and hungry, something softer had taken over — love, adoration, awe.

“Are you ready, Khione?” G’raha sighed, claiming her lips in a tender kiss. “If at any point you wish me to stop, simply say the word ‘duck,’ and I’ll stop.”

Khione beamed at him, nodding, stealing another kiss. “I’m ready, Raha. I want this. I want  _ you _ .”

This time, when G’raha kissed her, he began to push himself into her orgasm-slicked heat, groaning into her mouth — or perhaps she was the one moaning. Regardless, it felt like her entire world was shattering and reforming as she dug her nails deep into the shifting muscles of G’raha’s shoulders and wrapped her legs around his hips.

When he was fully sheathed within her, he paused, pressing a kiss to her brow, her nose, her lips, and down her throat.

“Twelve take me,” he swore, nipping at the sensitive lobe of her ear. “Khione, you feel  _ incredible _ .”

Khione panted slightly, nodding. “I assure you, the feeling is entirely mutual. I’m ready, Raha.”

G’raha grinned and pulled himself out, only to thrust back in slow and hard. “My mate…. Khione, I’ve dreamed of hearing you say that since...since I met you.”

Khione giggle-moaned as G’raha pulled out and thrust back in again, this time a little faster. “I’ve dreamt of a similar sentiment without the fancy title,” she admitted, pulling him down to press his chest to hers. “Raha of the G Tribe, I love you. Dearly. Until the stars become shadows.”

This unleashed something in G’raha, and he picked up his pace — though he was no less loving, nor did he pay any less attention to all of Khione’s sensitive spots.

“I love you too, Khione Agesandra North. Until the stars are forged anew.”

Khione could feel her orgasm coiling again, wound tight as she was with overwhelming feelings and the sensation of being filled, and  _ gods _ , G’raha was rather  **_thick_ ** .

“I-I…. I’m not going to last much longer, Raha,” she whispered. “But I want you to come inside me.”

G’raha looked down at Khione like she was the night sky incarnate, a beautiful, dazzling thing that made him see stars.

“I’m going to bite you when I do,” he murmured. “To claim you. Is that alright?”

Khione keened, her noises getting higher pitched and more desperate the closer she got to her release. “ _ Yes _ .”

And then she came, clenching around G’raha’s cock, drawing blood from the way her nails raked down his back — it would no doubt leave scars, but something told her G’raha wouldn’t care.

Her orgasm tore a wail from her throat, and had her head spinning with the force of it. 

And just when she was beginning to right herself, G’raha stilled above her, roared, and  _ bit _ .  **_Hard_ ** . His teeth sunk into the juncture of her neck and shoulder right as he spilled himself in her, hot strings of release that filled Khione with warmth down to her very soul.

For a number of long moments, they stayed like that, staring into each other’s eyes as they both came down from their peaks. G’raha pulled out and rolled off of Khione, bundling her against his chest to just bask in the afterglow.

“I’m sorry about that,” he sighed, pressing a kiss to her sweaty hairline.

“For what?” Khione chuckled. She nuzzled along the hollow of G’raha’s throat, smiling softly.

“I-I…. I don’t want you to feel like I for-forced you into that.”

Khione pulled back to look at him, reaching up to run her hand along his cheek. “G’raha, I  _ wanted _ that. I wanted  **_you_ ** . You didn’t force me into anything.”

This seemed to calm G’raha’s nerves, and he pulled Khione close against him once more.

“My mate,” he murmured. “I have a mate….”

“Your mate,” Khione echoed. 

“I love you, Little Bird.”

“I love you too, Raha.”

They dozed off for a bell or two, content, and when they woke again, G’raha took one look at Khione and hardened again, much to Khione’s pleasure. They spent much of the afternoon tangled in each other, never going more than a bell or two without another round of exploring each other, exploring this new step and these stronger feelings.

It wasn’t until the sun had set and the lights from the street below illuminated the bedroom in soft shades of gold and blue that they finally roused themselves to bathe and eat.

“So what was your other idea, Khione?” G’raha asked as he heated up their long-forgotten waffles. It took quite a bit of effort not to bend Khione over the table and take her again when she walked out of the bathroom in nothing but lacy panties and his hoodie.

“I think you should keep training with us,” Khione replied, hopping up onto the counter next to the stove to look down at G’raha with a smirk. “But I don’t think you should fight Zenos. I have a plan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your patience! I hope y'all enjoyed this, the PENULTIMATE CHAPTER! It's hard to believe that we're already near the end of this adventure!
> 
> I'm actually about to start finals, so 15 might be a bit, but I promise to make it worth it!
> 
> Shout out to all of the lovely people [Emet-Selch's Wholesomely Debauched and Enabling Book Club](https://discord.gg/enabling-debauched-xivfic) for their enthusiastic support and encouragement! Come check it out if you want more awesome FFXIV fic, or are interested in writing FFXIV fic!
> 
> As always, feel free to DM me or drop me a message in comments! I LOVE LOVE ***LOVE*** hearing from everyone!
> 
> Much love,  
> Blue


	15. Eternal Wind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of Chapter 15 — I realised as I was writing out my chapter outline that I had way too much to fit into just one chapter, so instead, 15 has been split into 3 parts.
> 
> Admittedly, this is mostly just porn with feelings. The next one will most likely be the same.

**Three Moons Later (T-5 Moons Until Showdown)  
**

G’raha’s breath was a hot, smiling, panting laugh against the back of Khione’s neck as he pulled out of her, and they both collapsed onto the bed in a tangle of sweaty, sticky limbs. For a few minutes, they simply laid there, basking in the afterglow of their coupling, climax-drunk minds wandering, floating in the post-orgasmic plane of bliss and happy tiredness.

Khione idly ran her fingers up and down G’raha’s arm, draped tight around her waist to hold her close, admiring the subtle shifting of his forearm muscles beneath her touch. A smile etched itself onto her face, mind drifting back to earlier in the evening.

_Khione was, for once, in charge of cooking dinner after she and G’raha got home from the gym. It had been a particularly long and grueling day for both of them, and although neither of them felt like cooking, Khione decided to treat her mate to his favourite meal — and also the only thing she was capable of cooking from scratch without almost setting the entire apartment ablaze. After defending his thesis and then managing to beat Zaerise in a fairly close fight, G’raha was more than entitled to a nice, long, hot shower, in Khione’s opinion._

_Setting her gym bag down in her closet, and trading her sweaty sports bra and tank top for one of G’raha’s Sultana’s University t-shirts, Khione pulled up the recipe for smoked gouda and bacon macaroni and cheese while she padded back to the kitchen on sore, bruised feet._

_G’raha emerged from the bathroom, a towel slung low on his hips, just as Khione slid the casserole dish out of the oven and set the table._

_Quiet as he was, Khione didn’t notice his presence until she turned to begin the cleanup process. “Oh!” she squeaked, smacking face-first into the solid, dew-damp wall of his chest. G’raha chuckled, wrapping Khione in a humid hug that smelled of fresh rain in the middle of the desert and lush cedar forests. His tail swayed with contentment, brushing against Khione’s legs, bared by her cobalt athletic shorts._

_“You didn’t need to cook tonight, Khi,” he murmured as he gently nuzzled the top of her head, a quiet purr rumbling through his chest, vibrating down into Khione’s soul. “I had a rather lovely angel hair pasta planned out with homemade pesto and parmesan-breaded chicken breast.”_

_Khione pressed a kiss to G’raha’s chest, right over his steady, beating heart, letting the rhythm ground her against the tide of the day’s weariness._

_“I didn’t need to, Raha, but I_ **_wanted_ ** _to,” she sighed. She looked up at him with a smile that didn’t even begin to convey the depths of her feelings._

_Fresh-faced, with his carmine hair unbound and droplets of water glittering on his fair, freckled skin still, G’raha reminded Khione of old Ishgardian paintings of heavenly beings. Her own heart skipped a staccato beat or two, fluttering like a baby bird when, for the twenty millionth time that day, she remembered that this reckless, brilliant, beautiful, hopelessly romantic man was_ **_hers_** _._

_G’raha answered her smile with one of his own, leaning down to slant his lips over hers._

_The kiss was unexpectedly searing, as though Khione was the fountain of eternal life and G’raha was determined to drink deeply. Soft, sinful lips promised unholy thoughts as they melded perfectly with her own, broad hands slipping beneath the waistband of Khione’s shorts to cup her ass and hoist her up atop the counter behind her. He made a great show of pulling the offending garments down, tossing them over his shoulder before returning to lean forward, his arms braced against the cabinets behind Khione’s head._

_“Well, I wish you’d warned me beforehand that you were making food,” G’raha purred. His voice was honeyed thunder, waves crashing over the seashore in the midst of an evening storm over the water, the rumbling of an ancient, primal need that echoed through her bones. “If you had, I would have told you that I’d rather have_ **_you_ ** _for dinner and dessert, and saved you the trouble, Little Bird.”_

_Khione’s toes curled as warmth pooled in her core, a tight coil of want and hunger that had nothing to do with her stomach._

_“Well, we can always put some tin foil over it and save it for later,” she mused. “I’d hate for you to go_ hungry _,_ **_mate_** _.”_

_G’raha’s lips against hers spread into that feral, wicked grin that tended to turn Khione’s thoughts into incoherent mush unless those thoughts involved her mate and the various ways in which they could claim each other, body, mind, heart, and soul._

_“I have just one question to ask you, then, Little Mate: Shall I take you here on the counter, bent over the bed, or pinned against the front door? How does my goddess of snow and stars wish for me to worship her tonight? Perhaps she’d have me sink to my knees and sing her praises as I drink deeply of her very essence? Or maybe she’d prefer I offer my own body as a willing sacrifice from which she might draw strength before we join together in a most sacred dance?”_

_Khione exhaled heavily through her nose, her pupils dilating to eclipse the twin moons of her eyes. Kiss-swollen lips split into a matchingly wicked smirk, mischief dancing along sharp, pale features. “If I am your goddess, then you are my consort,” she sighed, reaching up to cradle her mate’s beloved face, to draw the pads of her thumbs over his cheekbones, over his lips, over every ilm within her grasp, “and I would have you worship me with every fibre of your being, just as I will do the same for you.”_

_“That doesn’t answer my question.”_

_Khione chuckled, stealing another kiss. “Worship me with your mouth here on the counter. We’ll meander our way through the apartment, turn it into our temple.”_

_She didn’t have to say any more._

“Care to tell me what that was all about, Raha?” Khione hummed, turning over to face her lover and bury her nose in the warm, musky, sweat-damp crook of his neck. “I mean, I’m not arguing, but that was….” She trailed off, her grin growing bashful against G’raha’s skin while she reached around to stroke the base of his tail with slow, seductive touches, already hungry for _more_. “Does it have anything to do with your thesis defense this morning?” She pulled back, tilting her head up slightly to look up at him with an inviting smirk.

Pools of brilliant, precious scarlet turned dull and downcast, and G’raha sat up, releasing his hold on Khione to run a tired hand through his unbound hair. Khione’s blood ran cold at the sound of utter defeat in his voice, the sharp, downhill slopes of his shoulders as they sagged.

“What is it?” she snapped, the sort of panic that had her wanting to pull him back, to hold him close, lacing her tone. “Raha, what’s wrong?”

“Go shower, Little Bird. I’ll heat the food up and we can talk over dinner.” He got up and climbed over her before she had a chance to react, disappearing into the bathroom to grab and dampen a towel, then shuffled into his closet, wiping himself down as he went. 

With limited other choices — they had long ago agreed that, unless the other person explicitly asked for closeness and affection, when one of them was feeling upset, the other would give them space — Khione hauled herself out of the bed, stopping just long enough in her own closet to find a clean shirt, panties, and a pair of pyjama bottoms.

It was easily one of the quickest showers of her life, all semblance of sexual desire obliterated from her system, replaced by thoughts racing at one hundred malms a minute and cold, blind panic. There were any number of things that could be wrong, ranging from Zenos being a creepy fucker again, to failing his thesis defense, and Khione wasn’t sure which one scared her more.

Stepping out of the shower, Khione wrung out her hair and tore a brush through it so hard and so fast, she snapped the handle off. With the graceless clumsiness of a newborn fawn, she pulled on her clean clothes, and rushed out, down the hallway, into the kitchen.

Where she expected to find G’raha moping with his ears flat and his tail between his legs, she instead found him serving macaroni and cheese with microwave peas on their nicest plates, the table already set with candlelight and wine. G’raha himself had dressed in a clean pair of jeans and a button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up — far nicer than the blue flannel pyjama bottoms and Griffin University t-shirt that Khione wore — and had tied his hair half-back in a messy little bun, the rest hanging about his shoulders in loose waves.

She cleared her throat, one eyebrow cocked, and G’raha startled, turning to face her.

“Raha…. What…?” Khione struggled to fully process the...well, the entire evening so far. From the moment they’d met up outside the gym after their various respective commitments, G’raha had been dodging her questions about his thesis defense that morning. Caught up in the adrenaline of their training, she’d forgotten until she’d had the idea to cook dinner, by which point her lover had disappeared down the hallway and into the shower. Their pre-dinner _activities_ had also banished the thoughts from her head, but now…. Khione was beginning to feel emotional whiplash. She watched him set their plates on the table, confusion painting her expression as she crossed her arms under her breasts. “Raha of the G Tribe, you tell me what’s going on right this instant,” she finally snapped, scowling.

“Deschsal, actually,” G’raha corrected, prowling over to her with an arrogant smirk on his face. “ ** _Doctor_ ** G’raha — or Raha, for certain lucky individuals — Deschsal.”

It took Khione a moment to process G’raha’s words, the wide, bright grin that was stretching across his goofy, boyish, handsome face, the happy swish and sway of his tail and wiggling ears.

“Wait…,” she murmured, “does this mean…?”

G’raha nodded, rubbing the back of his neck, even as his smile turned blinding in its beautiful refulgence. “It does, yes. Were you really that worried?”

He opened his mouth to continue, but Khione didn’t give him a chance to do so. With a shriek of absolute joy, she launched herself at him with such force that they both nearly went down when he caught her. Suddenly, they were both laughing and crying, holding each other tight like lifelines in a sea of unyielding celebration. G’raha spun her around, burying his face in her neck while Khione clung to him, stroking the back of his head softly.

“Raha! That’s— I don’t— You scared me!” Khione sniffle-laughed. “Yes! You had me absolutely _terrified_ that something had happened!”

G’raha chuckled, setting her down with tender care. “Well, I do apologise for that, Little Bird. I wanted it to be a surprise, something for us to celebrate without the others crowding us or fussing. I thought it’d be funny to act like something was wrong.” He winked at her, mischievous and teasing, his tail slipping up, under her shirt to playfully tickle at her side.

Khione shook her head with a fond smile, smoothing out the front of her mate’s shirt, only to pull him down for a kiss, deep and filled with effervescent love that words would never be able to convey.

“Consider me surprised, Raha,” she murmured when she broke for a gulp of air, before going back in for more.

It was G’raha who finally pulled away with a happy sigh. “We can continue celebrating later, Khi. Right now, we both need to eat. I’d rather not have Sollielle scold me for your not eating.”

Khione pouted, though she knew he was right. Stealing one last kiss, she padded over to the table, laughing at the juxtaposition between her attire and the setting. “Next time,” she teased, “at least give me a dress code.”

They ate in hungry silence, both unable to take their eyes off the other. G’raha, it turned out, had gone by the Crystalline Mean after his defense, and bought a fresh chantilly cake and a bottle of sparkling strawberry wine. Rather than sitting at the table for dessert, though, they curled up in a corner of the sofa once G’raha had changed into his own pyjamas, and fed each other bites of cake, laughing and giggling and chatting, just being _together_. Happy.

“Just think, Khione,” G’raha mused, “in a few years, we get to do this all over again for you.” He swiped a bit of frosting onto the tip of Khione’s nose, making a great show of licking any excess off of his finger with a dramatic waggle of his ears and eyebrows. “Doctors Deschsal and North. The world of academia isn’t ready, I don’t think, for such a power couple.”

Khione paid him back in kind, giving him frosting whiskers and a moustache. “Well, _Doctor_ Raha, I look forward to it…. In four years’ time _at least_. Part of my acceptance to the programme, based on, well, everything, was that I would have to take things a bit more slowly to ensure that I don’t burn out, and that the University doesn’t waste money on me.” She shrugged, licking the frosting from her own fingers, and taking a sip of wine.

“Luckily, I don’t much care if it’s four years or fourteen,” G’raha hummed. “You should be proud of all that you’ve accomplished so far.” He twirled a midnight blue curl around his non-sticky finger, purring softly as he looked at her. “You got named to the President’s List both semesters at one of the finest universities in the world, you’re currently a named author on a paper in a publication, you're dealing with quite a lot of personal drama, _and_ you still find time to enjoy your life. That’s no slouch.”

Khione smiled gently, and nibbled on a piece of cake. It was certainly true that she’d rebuilt not only her personal life, but also her academic and professional life from scratch. 

_‘Why are you even bothering?’ Yotsuyu sneered, watching Khione fill out her application to Exarch University. It was Khione’s last day in rehab before she was set to move back to Revenant’s Toll, and she’d chosen to spend it in the sunny common room of her inpatient dorm, working on the proposal and application for a spot in the PhD programme at one of the top three universities in the world. Unfortunately, Yotsuyu, a rather narcissistic young woman from Doma, had decided to join Khione at the little table. ‘You’re never going to get accepted. A broken mess like you? I doubt that even the local community college would want you.’_

Oh, how very wrong Yotsuyu had been. How very wrong so _many_ people had been. Khione’s smile grew as she looked at G’raha and painted his face with a little more frosting.

He leaned forward, stealing a kiss that transferred some of the frosting from his face onto Khione’s. “No matter how long it takes, Khione, I intend to **thoroughly** celebrate your each and every accomplishment along the way. Also, luckily, I’ve already been offered a job here at the University. You know how Hades is retiring?”

Outside on a nearby street corner, a group of busking musicians played a hopeful tune of harp and flute.

Khione nodded, taking another sip of wine.

“He recommended me to the University’s hiring board…. And I got the job. Starting next year, I’ll be taking over half of his undergraduate classes to help him phase into retirement. In the meantime, I’ll be employed as his research assistant full time. The University and I also came to the agreement that I would not be teaching any postgraduate classes for at least my first five or six years.”

She set her wine glass and her plate down onto the coffee table, then did the same for G’raha before tackling him again, moving to straddle him. “That’s wonderful news, Raha,” she murmured, leaning down to kiss him slowly. Fire ignited in her belly once more, she dragged his lower lip through her teeth, sucked on his tongue, thumbs stroking the delicate, sensitive edges of his ears while she ground her hips against his.

“I believe,” she sighed, breathy and rough from building desire, “we should _properly_ celebrate this, Mon Amour.”

G’raha growled in answer, bucking up into her to draw a surprised gasp from her lips, the bulge in his thin cotton pyjama pants already hard and insistent. “Insatiable little thing,” he teased. He hooked his thumbs into the elastic waistband of Khione’s bottoms, and tugged them down until she could kick them off the rest of the way. He kissed the frosting from her face, chuckling darkly when she brazenly licked the frosting from his.

She stood and removed her shirt, smirking. “This is your celebration, Raha. Let me treat you.”

She slowly knelt, reaching up to pull down his pyjamas. Her mouth went a little dry at the sight of his length springing free, hard and flushed and throbbing, already leaking slightly, ready. When she looked up at her mate, his pupils were blown wide as black holes, the shadows on his face adding a sharp, predatory edge to his expression that made Khione even wetter. 

Taking her time, Khione softly wrapped one pale, delicate hand around his base, and licked a languid line up the underside of his shaft, savouring every slightly salty ilm of him. Her smirk turning wicked, she teased at his tip with her tongue, swirling it, lavishing it with the attention he so rightly deserved, opened her mouth as though ready to take him—

—And then turned her face to kiss and bite and suck along the inside of his thigh, her hand still gripping his base. G’raha’s answering snarl was a thing of ravenous, dangerous beauty; the sound of a man trying to hold himself back, thoroughly frustrated, barely keeping the dam of his _want_ from shattering and overflowing.

“Use your words, Raha~” Khione trilled, “You know I don’t speak horny male.” She bit down on the vulnerable flesh of his thigh, sucking a vivid mark, possessive and branding.

“ ** _Now_** ,” her mate growled, grabbing a fistful of damp midnight curls. His grip was strong enough to sting a little, to assert dominance and control, without being violent or aggressive. It made Khione’s heart ache with an upwelling of love for him, knowing that, despite having the advantage in the situation, G’raha was restraining himself, treating her with respect and care. He certainly deserved to be rewarded.

G’raha’s moan when Khione finally took him between her lips was loud, echoing through the living room; it was bliss and relief, carnal pleasure, mercy granted by a gentle goddess. 

She set a lazy pace, taking the time to enjoy the experience. With every bob down his length, she massaged his base with practiced hands and lavished attention on the velvet skin with her tongue; with every pull back, she softly dragged her teeth, humming. G’raha’s hand in her hair was a firm, gentle guide, and the two of them moved in sync, an understanding that needed no words.

He finally tugged her off of him, leaning down to kiss her senseless. “Have I ever mentioned how much I love tasting myself on your lips?” he murmured, guiding her up to straddle his lap as he leaned back against the plush cushions of the sofa. “Or shall I show you?” His hands at her hips were tauntingly warm, so at odds with her constantly-cold skin. It left Khione with goosebumps.

Khione kissed him once more, raising up to position herself over his length, her hands braced on his broad shoulders for balance. “Why not both?” she chuckled, ghosting her lips over his, taunting, always remaining _just_ out of his reach. “Spin your words into a hymn most beautiful, Raha,” she lowered herself a fraction of an ilm, the very tip of his throbbing length only just beginning to press into her. “Teach me each harmony of the songs you wish to sing with me,” she took a little more of him, gripping his shoulders tighter now, the faintest burn of the stretch of her body around his thickness tingling through her nerves, a prelude to the fullness she sought. “You’ve spent much of this evening worshipping me, Raha, even though we’re supposed to be celebrating you,” halfway and still going, the anticipation agonising and alluring for them both, “but now, I want to lose myself in worshipping _you_.” At last, she was fully seated on him, her body burning with the intoxicating blaze of **him** , of the ferocious, all-consuming ardor that had her hips rolling in slow, reverent circles.

G’raha’s eyes were blazing wildfires eclipsed by the abyssal depths of his lust-blown pupils, the heat contained in his gaze nearly enough to melt the star-frozen silver pools of Khione’s. He tried to bow his head, to duck to take one of her breasts in his mouth, but she hooked a finger under his chin, tilted him back to face her. Instead, she trailed frosty, scorching kisses down the slope of his neck, at each point of his burgundy tattoo, along the ridge of his shoulder, the lean jut of his collarbone, before returning to claim his lips.

“You know,” G’raha purred, bucking his hips gently to meet Khione’s, their movements a synchronised dance set to a private symphony of their own creation, “I’ve been offered the vacant office down at the end of the faculty hall. I’ve been dreaming all day about all the ways I intend to make good use of it.”

Khione chuckled and reached up to stroke one of her mate’s ears _just right_ , the way she knew drove him positively mad. “Go on, then.” Her smirk was broken by an airy gasp when G’raha thrust upwards into her, using his hold on her hips to guide her down onto his shaft in such a way that he hit all the right places inside of her, and crackles of levin splintered through Khione’s vision for a moment. G’raha simply purred louder, repeating the motion while still maintaining the achingly slow pace Khione had set.

He kissed her, just as slow and passionate as the rest of their coupling, a long-smouldering fire that went straight to the building coil of frantic tension in Khione’s core. “Well,” he dragged her lower lip through his teeth, suckled on it with a wicked smile, “I’m thinking that we’ll have to try all of the classic tropes: bending you over a desk and taking you from behind, my hand over your mouth to keep you quiet; sending you off to your classes with a toy inside of you and very explicit orders not to come until you present yourself to my office; stealing you into empty classrooms for a quick _lunch_ — you already know what those miniskirts you’re so fond of do to me, Little Bird.” As though to emphasise his point, he guided her upwards until only his tip still remained in her, and then roughly pulled her back down, thrusting his hips to sink impossibly deeper within her. Khione cried out in a howling, mewling moan, her body shuddering with the force of the pleasure that ricocheted through her and threatened to unleash the coil of her orgasm. Gods, she was so close, teetering on the edge, sweat beading at her pale brow. G’raha smirked even more, every ilm the dominant, satisfied male watching his mate come undone while riding him. 

“I intend to take you every morning, whether it be before we leave the apartment, or once we arrive at the University, so that you’ll smell like me for the rest of the day. I want everyone to know that you, Khione, are **_my_ ** beloved Little Bird, that I stand ever at your side, supporting you every second of every day in your every endeavour. Most of all, though, I wish to remind you every damn day that you’ll have me that I am proud beyond words of everything you’ve achieved so far, and everything that you’re going to achieve.”

His words broke the last remaining pieces of her control, and Khione willingly fell over the edge of bliss, throwing herself into the roaring inferno of ecstasy. G’raha continued to pull her up and down along his shaft through her peak, desperately chasing his own until he maneuvered Khione onto her back, then stilled and released the thick, scalding manifestation of every onze of passion he felt, filling his mate with pride and love and joy.

Panting breaths mingled together in a susurration of luminescent contentment, eyes of starry silver and sanguine scarlet locked in silent, solemn syzygy as they descended from the zenith of euphoria, one being in two souls, intertwined. Amazingly, it was G’raha who recovered first, scooping Khione into his arms without breaking the connection of their bodies. She twitched and whimpered, her entire body still so, _so_ sensitive, and every little shift of his half-masted length still within her was an intoxicating agony that she hoped would never end. She wrapped her trembling legs around his hips, arms looped about his shoulders, clinging, nails digging in for fear of falling.

It only vaguely occurred to her that he had carried her into their spacious, marble-covered bathing room when he set her down on the raised edge of the built-in tub, finally pulling out of her with a groan. Khione was far too orgasm-drunk to care about the tickling trickle of their shared release running down her thigh, not when she was far too busy watching her mate’s naked form, the cut of an archer’s sinewy muscles strengthened by moons of fight training, as he went about running a steaming, bubbling bath for them both.

G’raha climbed into the tub first, and then helped Khione in, holding her hand as she sunk into the luxurious water with a long moan of utter relaxation. Between the dance classes she’d recently started taking, and the extra fight training she was putting both herself and G’raha through, her muscles were sore, and she had no doubt that G’raha’s were too.

Gathering her wits about her, though, Khione sat up and floated to kneel behind her beloved, pushing him down so that she could reach his head. She giggled softly when he began purring, tail swishing lazily beneath the water. Manicured nails massaged his scalp, soothing shampoo down to the roots while flecks of frosting dissolved. They were silent as she pampered him, neither feeling the particular need to talk when the intimacy of the moment was more than enough to convey their feelings.

It was only when the water grew lukewarm, and both of them had turned wrinkly and pruned that they dragged themselves out of the bath and into clean smallclothes — G’raha insisted that he wanted to fall asleep with as much of Khione’s skin against his own as possible.

Weary, but effervescently happy, they fell into bed together with G’raha as the little spoon, his tail twined around Khione’s thigh while she pressed chaste little kisses to the nape of his neck.

“Je t’aime, Mon Amour,” she whispered, smiling sleepily.

“I love you too, Little Bird,” was G’raha’s murmured answer before sleep took them both into its gentle embrace.

With five moons still remaining until the fight, they deserved this little evening of rest and joy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE'RE BACK IN ACTION, LADIES AND GENTS!
> 
> Ahem.
> 
> Thank you for your patience, love, and support! Y'all don't know how much it's meant to me <3 
> 
> As always, I love hearing from you incredible souls, whether here in comments or in DMs!
> 
> Stay tuned, because I'm already hard at work on 15.2!
> 
> Shout out to all of the lovely people [Emet-Selch's Wholesomely Debauched and Enabling Book Club](https://discord.gg/enabling-debauched-xivfic) for their enthusiastic support and encouragement! Come check it out if you want more awesome FFXIV fic, or are interested in writing FFXIV fic!
> 
> 'Til the stars become shadows,
> 
> Blue the Magpie


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